Chapter 71

Kalo was back. The beast was stood over Atlas when she woke up on the final day of the Easter holidays, a large package between his beak and his beedy eyes staring into her very soul, she was startled, of course, letting out a loud cry at the proximity of her face with his misty one. She could deal with Fobbo popping up out of nowhere but Kalo’s eyes always sent violent shivers throughout her body. It was perhaps the only thing she vaguely disliked about her mother’s old owl, those dead and soulless eyes of his.

She sat up, the bird flapping once to avoid getting smacked in the face by the girl’s duvet. Atlas looked around, thankful to see Hermione had already woke up and left before turning back to her owl, a grumpy look on her face. Kalo seemed to sense he’d messed up as he shuffled and tried to avoid eye contact – much to Atlas’s relief – ruffling up and tapping his taloned feet nervously against her bed frame.

“Where have you been, young man? I have been worried sick, you didn’t even leave a note and I know you know how to write one,” Atlas scolded, “you are smarter than this, I am very disappointed in you.”

A laugh. A loud and hearty laugh coming from the doorway. Atlas looked up and past her owl, finding Hermione stood in the doorway, clutching her stomach with two Easter eggs in hand, one significantly smaller than the other. Kalo had turned also, his head spinning a one-eighty to look over at Hermione.

“What?”

“I just — wow, that was amazing. You’d be a very scary mother.”

“I am a mother, Kalo is my son,” Atlas said matter-of-factly.

“Right, my apologies,” Hermione smiled, walking in and setting the much larger Easter egg on Atlas’s desk before putting the smaller one on hers. That confused Atlas. “Come on, Percy just sent his response. You know, about Crouch?”

“Right and uh…thanks, for the really late Easter egg.”

“Oh no, it’s from Mrs Weasley,” Hermione sighed, looking down sadly at her tiny egg. “Ron said Mrs Weasley reads the Daily Prophet for her recipes…and well, I’m thinking she’s seen all that stuff about me and Harry.”

“About you being a scarlet woman?” Atlas chuckled but Hermione didn’t seem amused, so Atlas stopped and smiled softly, reaching over to pluck her egg from the desk, turning it over in her hand a second before tossing it over and onto Hermione’s bed. “Have mine, I don’t even know why I got one, considering she doesn’t know me.”

“But you really like chocolate…”

“I like you more,” Atlas shrugged, “seriously, take it. Minnie got me a huge one and I still haven’t finished it, I won’t miss it.”

“If you’re sure,” Hermione mumbled. Atlas stood and walked over to her, pulling her into a side hug and kissing her temple.

“I’m sure, Mi. And when we see Mrs Weasley next, we can tell her it was all a misunderstanding, can’t we?”

“Yeah,” Hermione sighed and then Atlas pulled away, moving back over to Kalo, the owl still stood with that large package in his hold, the strings sort of fraying where he held them in his beak. Atlas took it from him, giving it a once over before pulling the wrappings off, her brows furrowed in confusion.

It was a wooden egg, large and varnished, a few slits here or there but they looked intentional, Hermione walked over, looking at it appraisingly as Atlas just stared, glancing at Kalo and then back at the egg. She recognised it, not the egg but some of the markings, it was something from one of her mother’s journals, the one in which Atlas had learnt to make chessboards and magical jewellery. But how did Kalo have it? Was it just another unexpected gift from Sirius?

“There’s a note,” Hermione told, reaching into the box and pulling out a little card. “It just says…’I thought you’d like this back’, Atlas I think we should — Atlas?”

There was a journal open in Atlas’s lap, a drawn picture of a box, bearing the same markings as the egg illustrated across the parchment, Atlas was reading down the page, following moves and instructions, soft clicks coming from somewhere within the egg each time. Hermione went slightly wide-eyed, reaching out to stop her but upon seeing the look on Atlas’s face, she froze. She looked concentrated, like whatever this egg meant, it was important, something so very important.

So Hermione didn’t stop her, instead, she watched, forgetting all about Percy’s letter and remaining silent, stroking Kalo as even he stopped and stared, listening to the soft clicks of whatever mechanisms were hidden beyond the wooden surface. And then, when it sounded its final click and fell apart, Hermione leant forward, Kalo on her shoulder as Atlas reached inside and pulled out a little doll.

A little lion doll, charred and dirtied but it seemed to mean something, as Atlas raised a tentative hand to brush across its spoiled face, thumb caressing the spot where a button eye should have been. The look on Atlas’s face was just pain, confusion and some mystified longing for a time she did not get to have.

“What is it?”

“My doll.”

“Your doll?”

“From when I was a baby…my lion doll, I thought…I thought the fire…” Atlas looked down at it and then over to Kalo. “Where did you go Kalo?” He simply hooted, shaking his head. “Kalo, where did you go? How did you get this? The egg?”

He wouldn’t tell her.

“Maybe McGonagall?” Hermione suggested when Atlas pulled her gaze from Kalo’s, his eyes deeply unsettling her. “Or Dumbledore, he once gave Harry his dad’s old invisibility cloak.”

“Right…yeah.”

Getting it from Dumbledore would make sense, he was the one that gave Atlas her mothers old wand and her remaining journals. Everything she had been left by her mother was given to her by Dumbledore, so this made sense. The question was, why now? Why Easter and why a few weeks before the Third Task? It was so random and questionable it just had to be from Dumbledore. 

There was no one else it could have been from, unless…? No, Kalo wouldn’t bring her stuff from the Monster. He wouldn’t. Kalo was her best friend, ever since she could walk and talk he had been there for her. It was strange to say a magical beast that often took the form of an owl was the one thing there for her growing up but that was the absolute truth. Kalo was secretive, he went off to places unknown to Atlas but he would never visit her enemy.

What was she thinking?

“Let’s go and see what this Percy letter is all about,” Atlas sighed, standing up from her bed and setting the doll on her desk, the egg right beside it. 

Hermione watched her silently, a small frown tugging at the corner of her mouth, she didn’t like seeing Atlas so dejected, “Hey wait…” so she stood up and went over to her desk, picking up her tiny Easter egg and tossing it over to the girl. Atlas caught it easily, smiling slightly as she gave it a once over.

“Sympathy chocolate, my favourite,” She muttered, unwrapping it as Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Shut it you,” Hermione scratched the top of Kalo’s head, kissing his beak. “Bye-bye, pretty boy.”

“Gross,” Atlas commented, “you kissed him on his mouth,” she continued, poking her tongue out.

“I kissed him on the beak,” Hermione corrected, walking past her and down into the Common Room, Atlas stared after her a moment before smiling and jogging the rest of the way down, finding Ron and Harry sat by the fire, reading over a sheaf of parchment, kept neat with lines of the finest ink, it even seemed to glisten in the firelight. Yeah, it was definitely from Percy.

“Morning, Atlas,” Harry smiled as Ron simply waved, making room for Hermione and her to sit between him and Harry. 

“Morning, Potter. Alright, Ronald?”

“Alright. You?”

“Alright,” Atlas smiled, sitting down beside her god-brother. “So, what’s the note read?”

Ron cleared his throat, holding the parchment out in front of him as he seemed to put on his best snobbish look, a pompous air about him, “It reads ‘As I am constantly telling the Daily Prophet, Mr Crouch is taking a well-deserved break. He is sending in regular owls with instructions. No, I haven’t actually seen him, but I think I can be trusted to know my own superior’s handwriting. I have quite enough to do at the moment without trying to quash these ridiculous rumours. Please don’t bother me again unless it’s something important. Happy Easter.’ Charming ain’t he?”

“Think we nicked a sore spot,” Atlas smirked. “No amount of Hermione’s proofreading could have made it sound like we weren’t accusing him of anything.”

“Reckon Percy’s got a crush on Crouch?” Harry grinned.

“Oh definitely,” Ron laughed.

“What’s wrong with respecting your superiors?” Hermione grumbled.

“Nothing Mi, we’re just being supportive you know? If Percy’s into older men, good on him,” Atlas mused, fist-bumping Ron as discretely as she could. Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes as she stood, a blur of ginger fur streaking after her as she left. Where Crookshanks had come from, Atlas hadn’t seen. Probably one of his many hidey-holes. Sucks he didn’t say hello to her though. “Alright, if that’s all, I’m gonna go after Hermione.”

“Er — actually, Atlas,” Ron spoke, glancing over to Harry who nodded encouragingly. “Could we have that talk? I’ve sorta wanted to say a few things since the first task but…well, things got in the way.”

“Oh, sure Ron,” Atlas smiled, standing to lead them out of the Common Room. She noticed how Ron sent Harry one final look before following after her, the two of them leaving Harry to his lonesome. Atlas thought it was fine though, Hermione would hang out with him in their stead. 

They continued out until they were in the courtyard, the morning sun rising high in the sky, birds tweeting their morning tunes and various noises rumbling from the depths of the Forbidden Forest, announcing the awakening of the magical beasts that called the green their home. Atlas hoped onto the fountain, walking along the bench that encased the water, her hands out beside her for balance while Ron seemed to ponder over his next few words.

“You know if this is a love confession, I’m flattered but –“

“It’s not a confession you piss-take,” Ron flushed and Atlas smirked, glancing over at him as she stopped and instead sat, dipping her hands in the cool water of the fountain, twirling patterns in the glistening pool.

“I know, just trying to relieve the tension.”

“Right well…I just wanted to say that I’m proper sorry,” Ron sighed and Atlas stopped, withdrawing her hand from the water as she looked over at Ron curiously. “I was a tosser, I know that now, Hermione and Harry have drilled me about it for the past few months. Harry says even though you accepted my apology back then, I should still give you a meaningful one.”

“All’s good, Ron. Seriously, if it wasn’t do you think I would even be talking to you right now? We all do pretty shitty things sometimes,” Atlas shrugged.

“Yeah, I know but –” Ron seemed to stop, letting out a solemn breath, “– I didn’t stick up for you and Harry that time down in the Dungeons and Hermione got hurt for it, you got hurt for it. I ignored you when you tried to talk to me about not putting your name in and obviously that whole thing the night Sirius first made contact about the first task.”

“I don’t blame you for being jealous Ron –“

“It’s stupid to let jealousy get in the way of our friendship though.”

“Who told you that one?” Atlas smiled.

“Hermione, after the Yule Ball, well, she said it more to herself than anything but I picked up on it,” Ron admitted sheepishly. “The point is…I let it get the better of me and made the first few months for you and Harry pretty naff.”

“Sure did but I also want you to know I don’t resent you for being jealous back then Ron, I just resented the way you handled it and just so you know, I never actually hated you, I told you to fuck off back then when Hermione got hit by Malfoy’s spell because you just pissed me off.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t knock me flat,” Ron smiled.

“Almost did, not going to lie. Hermione stopped me though. You should thank her for that.”

“I’ll make sure to,” Ron nodded. “Sorry this whole thing was so late, there was just so much going on and whenever I tried to talk to you other stuff came up.”

“No problem, Ronald and hey…we might not be the closest two in the group but you’re still my best friend.”

“Who am I competing with?” Ron laughed.

“Hmm, no one. You’re number one.”

“Oh yeah, what about Harry?”

“He’s my brother.”

“Hermione?”

“My person.”

“Ginny?”

“My treasure, of course, don’t you remember?” Atlas grinned and then pushed herself to her feet, hooking an arm around the boy comfortably. “Seriously Ronald, I could do this all day. Just accept the fact you’re my number one best friend.”

“No, no, there’s got to be someone else.”

“Uhuh, keep ’em coming then, Ronald…”

***

Atlas finished tying the last leg of ham to one of the larger owls the school offered, muttering a strengthening charm as she brushed down the birds front and urged him into flight. Harry did the same behind her, mirroring her actions while she waited, arms crossed and back against the wall.

“You and Ron all good now?” Harry asked, wiping his hands down his front.

“The whole massive apology wasn’t necessary but…I appreciated it,” Atlas nodded and Harry smiled, lightly jabbing her shoulder as he left the Owlery, Atlas following suit. They talked about nothing and everything as they made it back to the castle, climbing up to where the Tower was, completely engrossed in their conversation. Harry even made a show of speaking Parseltongue, quizzing Atlas on words she might have remembered or forgotten.

She nailed whatever quiz he threw at her, of course.

“Evening, Atlas.”

“Good afternoon, My Lady, did you have a good day?” Atlas smiled, looking up at the painting that guarded Gryffindor Tower, Harry looked between them quizzically, that week’s password frozen on his tongue.

“Indeed I did, Violet has invited me over for tea tonight, I find it quite fortunate that us paintings don’t get tired,” The Lady told, powdering her nose and applying some sort of lipstick in a random vanity that had somehow manifested upon her canvas.

“I thought the whole reason you didn’t like us coming back late was because we woke you?”

“I might not need sleep but you know, it is pleasant to dream every once and a while,” The Lady explained. “Anyhow, I’ll be out for the night so tell all of your friends to stay inside. Lady Noelle upstairs will be taking my place, however, I’d prefer it if she didn’t get comfortable.”

“Of course, ma’am,” Atlas smiled.

“Good girl,” The Lady acknowledged, swinging open to grant them passage without a password exchange between them. Harry followed in after Atlas, mouth hanging open and eyes practically bulging beneath his glasses.

“Is there anyone you’re not friends with?”

“Snape and Binns.”

“Right, besides those two?”

“Hmm, Myrtle seems to have changed her opinion of me, lately.”

“Because you blocked all of her toilets,” Harry reminded and Atlas hummed in agreement.

“Right, yeah maybe that’s it. I did do that, only because she was taking the piss out of Hermione again, though,” Atlas shrugged. “Someone told her about all the hate mail Mi was getting and she had a field day with it. I used to really like Myrtle…apparently, you did too.”

“Oh shut it.”

“Sorry Mr ‘I had my first kiss with a ghost’, tell me, how did it feel?”

“Really…cold actually and a bit narcissistic considering Myrtle looks like me with a wig on…”

“Oh, please grow out your hair,” Atlas grinned. Harry rolled his eyes and muttered a few profanities along the lines of ‘go away’ as he pushed the girl into the Common Room couch, disturbing a mumbling form they had yet to notice. Only because the girl was sat beneath a blanket, hidden and unseen.

Atlas raised a brow, reaching out to pull away the cover that concealed whatever Hermione might be hiding beneath it. What she found, well, Atlas shouldn’t really have been shocked but she was, a look of absolute wonder blooming across her face. She dropped the sheet, cocking her head to the side as Crookshanks mewled, stretched out and jumped up onto the sofa, using it to pounce to Atlas’s shoulder.

Of course, Crookshanks hadn’t been the thing to shock her, however, it was the fact that there were three elves beneath the sheet as well, all looking up at Atlas and Harry with wide eyes, Hermione simply looked a little disgruntled, annoyed even, that they had interrupted their…storytime? If that’s what it was. Hermione was holding a book so it was plausible.

That’s funny. Atlas used to read to Fobbo, all of the time actually. She briefly wondered why she stopped but didn’t have much time to ponder on it as Winky had gotten to her feet, looking incredibly sober, a feat really, considering Atlas didn’t think she’d seen the elf sober since originally finding her in the kitchens that day upon returning.

“Winky is sorry, miss! I is knowing we are not to be seen but Dobby and Fobbo invited me to listen to a story and miss — miss it has been a very long time since I has heard a story! And I is — !” 

“Woah, hold on,” Atlas rushed, she glanced over at Harry who was sending Dobby a little wave and then to Hermione who was looking extremely concerned, realising she was on her own in this. “Winky, you’re not in trouble, it’s good to see you…sober.”

“Does the miss not like it when I is not sober?”

“Ah, you should just look after yourself Winky, that’s all. Maybe drink…moderately?” Atlas shrugged and sought to shift the topic as soon as possible. “So…you’re reading stories, Mi?”

“Well…Fobbo was wandering again and noticed I was reading,” Hermione told, sitting up with a rather heavy-looking tome in hand, Fobbo was sat with her, holding onto her hand while Dobby seemed to run over to Harry, chatting animatedly with clear excitement. He seemed to be acting out some sort of fighting scene, probably from the book Hermione had been reading to them, which was one Atlas had seen briefly on Hermione’s personal bookshelf. 

“The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Chronicles of Narnia…that’s the first one right? Well, The Magician’s Nephew took place first, Chronologically but that one came out first. I gave it a read after you told me how much you liked it. I’m taking it Dobby’s so…spirited because of the Battle of Beruna? If you’ve gotten that far…” Atlas asked with a smile and a light seemed to have lit behind Hermione’s as she smiled in turn, looking suddenly elated.

“You read it because I liked it?”

“Well, yeah…I bought my own copy…two actually, I annotated one and was going to give it to you, see if I noticed anything you didn’t or you know…vice versa,” Atlas muttered glancing at the unreadable expression upon Hermione’s face. “Is that…stupid? That I — er — did that? Was it totally like…sacrilegious of me to write in a book?”

“No, I…” Hermione shook her head, chuckling softly, “I love it, Atlas. I think it’s really sweet of you to do that.”

“Oh, it is?” Atlas flushed, smiling widely. “Cool.”

“Yeah, cool,” Hermione smiled, it was small-like but Atlas saw it, briefly, as she had soon ducked her head, clearing her throat, her fingers drifting across her last page to, apparently, find where she had left off. “Do you two want to…stick around? We’re just about to get into Chapter Eight.”

“Chapter eight — but that’s nowhere near the battle, why’s Dobby acting so bloodthirsty?” Atlas laughed.

“He’s…spirited, as you said,” Hermione grinned and Atlas huffed, smiling as she shook her head and turned to look over at Harry, Dobby already rushing back to Hermione’s side, eager to carry on.

“You want to stay down here, Harry? Hermione’s reading voice is the best.”

“Agreed!” Dobby and Fobbo cried, looking incredibly excited, Winky seemed to just nod, pulling Atlas down beside Hermione and sitting in her lap.

“Sure,” Harry said rolling his eyes with a smile. “Just let me get Ron.”

“Alright, but if he makes any snide comments to Hermione I’ll get The Lady to not let him in the Tower for a month!”

“That’s fair.”