Chapter 9

Sat ready and waiting, Atlas flipped through her Herbology book on Puffapods, a plant they would be studying in future Herbology lessons. It wasn’t a subject Atlas was innately good at so she often had to study much more in the subject than any other. It was frustrating, to say the least, not being instantly good at something, usually, Atlas would have given up on it, gone onto something else but it was part of her curriculum and she really wanted to achieve high marks in her OWLs.

So that’s why she was sat in the library, at 5 PM, waiting for Hermione to show up, it was out of character for her to be late, even if it was only by 5 minutes but Atlas didn’t mind. It was slightly concerning but she didn’t venture down that paranoia path, opting to wait a few more minutes until she went on a search of her own. She was glad she did because soon, Hermione came stumbling into the library, hair messy and bag hanging loosely from her arm.

A smile wormed its way onto Atlas’s face and she stood up eagerly, going over to the girl and taking her bag from her. “Hey, you…” Hermione smiled, “Sorry…Professor Sinatra stopped me in the halls.”

“It’s fine,” Atlas grinned, setting the bag underneath the table as she took her seat again, Hermione made herself comfortable across from her, surveying over the books Atlas had chosen. “Your hair looks…more untamable than usual.”

“Oh!” Hermione flushed and tried to flatten down her hair, Atlas watching her amusedly for a second before going back to her book, absentmindedly flipping through it, “better?”

“You look good either way,” Atlas voiced slyly – she didn’t look up – stopping now on a page about Valerian, an ingredient Atlas knew well considering it was used to make Sleeping Draughts. “I know the curriculum for this term so we could do some reading in advance?”

“That sounds good to me,” Hermione smiled and Atlas looked up, eyes going to her friend’s hair to see she really hadn’t done a good job of flattening it down. That brought a small smile to her face as she shook her head.

They settled into a comfortable silence, Hermione getting up a few times to grab her own books to read. Atlas would sometimes ask for a few clarifications on certain passages, eyeing the copious amounts of homework Hermione somehow had as she did. It did make Atlas wonder just how many classes the girl was taking but she didn’t press the subject, going back to her reading every time Hermione had finished explaining something.

Occasionally, Atlas herself would help Hermione on a few things, Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts in particular, always getting a curt nod or a quiet ‘thank you’ in return. Each would earn a twitch of a smile at Atlas’s lips, only for it to disappear when she went back to her notes.

“What do your parents do?” Atlas suddenly asked after her wrist started to hurt a good few hours into the session. They hadn’t spoken much and had just been content in each others company and the rare words they shared.

Hermione slowly looked up from her book, mouth formed into a curious but amused smile as she set down her quill, “Strange…” she muttered and Atlas rolled her eyes, “not in a bad way, just…no one’s ever taken an interest. They’re dentists.”

“Oh…” Atlas had no idea what that was. “Uh…”

“They work with teeth,” Hermione smiled and Atlas nodded, she was now slightly less confused, “Though I suspect you don’t know what a dentist really is?”

“No…not really,” Atlas admitted.

“I’m surprised. You have very nice teeth.”

“Ah…thank you,” Atlas smiled, cocking her head to the side in odd endearment. What a peculiar compliment. “I suppose it’s a…respected job?”

“I guess…they’re doctors in their own regard,” Hermione nodded with a slight shrug, “Like healers but specifically for teeth.”

“Now I get it,” Atlas grinned. She was seemingly proud of her understanding which was understandable considering Atlas had never really come into contact with anything muggle. So dentists were teeth healers, that was cool to know. “Is it…fun?”

“Uh, I don’t really know,” Hermione said, furrowing a brow and then looking back at Atlas in amusement, talking to the girl on something as simple as the dentist was oddly enjoyable. “Though, I wouldn’t think so,” she began chuckling, “one time my dad was looking over a boy, his name was Robbie Fenwick and he bit my dad’s finger,” Atlas’s eyes widened and upon seeing this, Hermione grinned wider, “He needed ten stitches.”

“That’s horrible,” Atlas muttered, “So it’s a dangerous job?”

“Sure, if you want to keep your fingers,” Hermione nodded and smiled fondly. That had been an overdramatization but Atlas’s reaction made it worth it, she looked utterly terrified at the prospect of getting her finger bitten off as a dentist.

“I respect your parents,” Atlas muttered.

“I feel like they would like you,” Hermione mused, leaning against her palm, “and would ask if they could take a look at your teeth.”

“I don’t think I would mind, I’ve never been to the dentist before, and in honesty, I’m intrigued,” Atlas smiled, Hermione furrowed her brows in concentration and then she smiled oddly, like Atlas was the most peculiar thing.

“You’re intrigued by the dentist?”

“You’re the most muggle thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting,” Atlas told, leaning against her palm as well, her grin playful. “And your parents sound fun.”

“I suppose they are.”

“Do they really like clean teeth then?”

“They do. I think it’s a dentist thing.”

“So did the trait rub off on you? You also have very nice teeth.”

Hermione licked her top row of teeth instinctively, “I have buck teeth.”

“They’re cute,” Atlas smiled reassuringly, “Don’t worry about them.”

“Do you secretly need glasses?” Hermione asked in a hushed whisper, though her tone was teasing.

“My eyesight’s fine, I think you’re the one who needs them,” Atlas quipped and then pinch Hermione’s cheek, settling back down into her seat from where she had to lean over the table to reach the younger girl. “What’s your favourite colour?”

“Don’t you think we should be studying, Atlas?” Hermione pointed out but Atlas didn’t react, knowing she would answer the question, “Fine…blue or gold, you?”

“Hmm…” she didn’t really have one, “guess,” she continued, flipping through her book and writing down a few notes, Hermione mirrored the action, going back to her own studies.

“Well…” Hermione looked up, something Atlas couldn’t help but follow, “you seem to really like nature…so brown or green,” she grinned and Atlas smiled too. Yeah, those would be her favourite colours from now on.

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you were right, I do like nature,” she nodded and Hermione went back to her work, “favourite sweet?”

“Atlas, did you want to get any studying done?”

“I do…but I also want to talk to you, come on, let’s take a small break, we can just ask questions whilst partially focused on our work,” Atlas reasoned and Hermione stared at her a moment before sighing and going back to her work. Tried to go back to her work anyway.

“I quite like treacle tarts, and you?”

“Chocolate frogs,” Atlas replied with a grin on her face at her triumph. She remembered how each time she had had to see Madam Pomfrey the woman would send her away with a chocolate frog. “Hobbies?”

“Reading…I suppose yours is flying?”

“Yeah…but I quite like making things, as well,” There was a bit of silence but it wasn’t uncomfortable, “do you have a favourite Quidditch team?”

Hermione laughed slightly and glanced upwards, “the Gryffindor’s team.”

“Ah,” Atlas smiled, “Well…I feel like you would like the Holyhead Harpies, they’re the best all-female Quidditch team out there, they’re also the second oldest team in the league.”

“You know your Quidditch.”

“Yeah, I really wanted to go to the Quidditch World cup next year but…well, besides a trip to the Northernmost parts of Norway and Sweden and a portkey to Southern France when I was younger, I’ve never been outside of Hogwarts or Hogsmeade so,” Atlas shrugged and didn’t finish her sentence, going back to her work. Hermione remained staring at her for a moment before going back to her studies as well, a smile on her face. “…favourite player?”

“As of now…Harry,” Hermione grinned and then kicked Atlas’s shin under the table, earning the girls eye, “until I see you fly of course.”

“I tell you, you’re a girl after my own heart, you know?” Atlas smirked as she turned back to her work, Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes, kicking her friend under the table again. “Do you have a favourite word?”

“Not really…but I suppose if I have to think of one, it would be eunoia…it means beautiful thinking…a well mind,” she told and Atlas smiled.

“It fits you.”

“It does?”

“Yeah,” If Hermione wanted Atlas to elaborate, unfortunately, she was disappointed, “mine’s orphic…it means mysterious and entrancing, beyond ordinary understanding.”

“Well that one fits you,” Hermione smiled, looking up from her work. They stared at each other for a moment before Atlas broke off and looked back at her notes, a smile on her lips and a thought bouncing around her mind. “What did you do before…this?”

“Coming to Hogwarts?” Atlas asked and watched as Hermione nodded, “well…not a lot, I followed the school’s lessons in the comfort of my own home, went out sometimes to the village, hung around Bella and fed her pigs. Sometimes I would chop up firewood for the locals.”

“That’s nice of you,” Hermione smiled.

“I guess. I have a friend in the forest, her names Lyra,” Atlas then added, smiling fondly at the memory of her wolf companion. The wolf that had been with her ever since she’d blossomed her magic. “She’s just had her pups.”

“Pups? Oh, you’re talking about a dog.”

“Wolf,” Atlas corrected with an amused smile.

“Right,” Hermione nodded.

“And you? What did you do before Hogwarts?”

“Oh,” Hermione seemed startled by the question and took a moment to think, “well, I went to primary school, I didn’t have very many friends so I spent most of my time reading books.”

“Was it…lonely?”

A beat of silence, “Yes…I suppose sometimes it could be, even if my parents were across the hall or just downstairs…it could be lonely. And…you?”

“Yeah, I spent most of my days and nights alone. It didn’t bother me all that much in the beginning but…I guess it has been quite…lonely and cold lately. I don’t think I’d like it if I suddenly found myself alone again…” Atlas admitted and then glanced up at Hermione, “Do you feel lonely now?”

“No, I don’t think I do…you?”

“Me either,” Atlas smiled, ducking her head and going back to her notes, Hermione did the same, scratching at her cheek and dipping her quill into her inkpot to write more things down.

“You mentioned…making things?”

“Oh,” Atlas nodded and itched at the back of her neck. “My mother was an inventor…as you probably know, I — uh — I follow a few of her old journals and make jewellery sometimes, chess sets, figurines and the like, easy stuff anyone could learn.”

“That sounds quite amazing and you say it’s a hobby? Are you any good?”

“I suppose so, I’m horrendous at making anything too complex, brooms, wands and stuff. My mother left manuals on how to make them but I just can’t get it down, she was…in a league of her own,” Atlas sighed with a defeated sort of smile. “I really wanted to be like her when I was younger, it was her or Minerva…now I’m more realistic. I don’t think I could ever be as great.”

“Don’t think like that…I’m sure with practise you could,” Hermione smiled kindly.

“No — no I don’t think so,” Atlas refuted firmly and after a moment her hard look quickly softened. “It’s fine though, I don’t want to be an inventor.”

Hermione looked at the girl apologetically, to which she waved off and went back to her work. Again, they settled into a quiet rhythm.

“So…I haven’t seen you around today…” Hermione asked after a few minutes of silence, she wanted to get rid of the tense atmosphere, though it only seemed to make it worse. Glancing up at Atlas, the girl had stilled completely, just staring down at her work. “Sorry, was that too nosy of me?”

“It’s…just uh…the anniversary of my mum’s death.”

“Oh…I’m sorry…I thought–“

“She died closer to the end of the war?” Atlas smiled sadly and Hermione nodded slowly, “her death was reported that way…but…no, she died on September 6th, McGonagall found me the next day…and well, here I am.”

“…here you are,” Hermione nodded silently, biting at her bottom lip and internally cursing herself for bringing it up.

“Don’t curse yourself for it, Hermione,” Atlas smiled, slowly and nervously taking Hermione’s hand in hers over the table, giving it a quick squeeze before returning it to her side, “anyway, I went to see her grave, well…the one I made for her when I was young…I don’t know where she’s really buried.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Atlas smiled. The silence resumed anew and soon – once she was sure Atlas wouldn’t say anything else – Hermione absorbed herself into her studies not noticing the short glances Atlas threw her way.

Though, Atlas stopped the glances altogether after a moment and fully focused on her Herbology book, realising in the few hours they’d been there that she had only made it into her second book while Hermione was on her fifth. That was Hermione though, wasn’t it?

One particular paragraph had Atlas scrunching her face up in confusion, scratching the back of her neck in frustration, she swore sometimes when she was reading through anything to do with Herbology the words would just shift in ways Atlas’s brain couldn’t understand. She tilted her head up, eyes still on her page but mouth open and ready to say something, “Hermione–” that was until she saw the girl before her fast asleep, head resting against a page on Animagus, she grimaced at the topic, “Funny…”

“Miss Black,” Atlas turned to look down at Madam Pince, “The library is closing soon so if you would please wake up Miss Granger and leave–“

“Ah, no, don’t wake her,” Atlas rushed and the librarian turned to her, eyebrow raised and gaze severe, “Sorry Miss…I’ll carry her,” she cleared which seemed to satisfy the witch as she turned on her heel and headed back for her desk.

With a quick look to Hermione, Atlas sighed and scooped up all of their books, setting them in their respective bags and slinging them both over each of her shoulders, putting the lesser weighing one on her still aching arm. Then, with a bit of effort, Atlas crouched down and managed to get Hermione on her back, whispering a spell under her breath to get the girls arms draped around her neck.

It worked and Hermione snuggled into the warmth of Atlas’s body. The Black only smiled and headed for the door, Madam Pince staring at them the whole time she advanced on the exit, only to open her mouth just as Atlas got to the door, “Happy Birthday, Miss Black.”

“…thank you, Madam Pince…”

“Take care,” Atlas only nodded and left the silent room, navigating through the halls in silence with an equally as quiet Hermione on her back. The girl shifted and pressed her cheek into Atlas’s shoulder, her breath tickling the older girls ear.

A few ghosts passed, some saying the same as Madam Pince while others refrained, not knowing the girl’s stance on her one morbidly tragic special day of the year. She paid it no mind, she was used to it, people avoiding her birthday or being outright with it. Isabella was one of the ones who didn’t comment on it, silently handing her a present every few years because she wasn’t well-endowed in the eyes of wealth. On the other hand, Cedric tried to get the girl looking on the brighter side, reminded her she was one year closer to the day he graduated and they could spend more time together. It had worked for a time, now though, Cedric doesn’t bring it up.

Climbing the many steps to Gryffindor tower, Atlas didn’t even glance at The Fat Lady as she relayed that week’s password, silently walking through when the painting opened after a few grumbles on the girl having no respect, the word ‘pleb’ being used one too many times. Again, she ignored the woman and sighed, leaning her head back, subsequently setting against Hermione’s own, it was warm and a few of the girl’s untamed hairs tickled at her cheek.

“There you are,” she leaned forward again, carefully adjusting Hermione who tightened her hold on Atlas’s neck, it wasn’t so strong it would suffocate her but it was clear she wouldn’t be letting go anytime soon.

“Hey, Hermione’s asleep, lower your voice would you?” Atlas grinned playfully.

“Oh right…sorry,” Ron whispered this time, “Have you been studying all day?”

“You could say that,” Atlas reasoned.

“Wow, I’ve never seen Hermione so peaceful,” Harry mused, joining his red-headed friend in staring at Hermione and Atlas, “Hey there, Atlas.”

“Hello,” Atlas nodded and then motioning over to the girls’ dorms, “I need to get this one to bed.”

“Right, right,” Harry nodded, “Oh, Happy Birthday.”

“Who told you?” Atlas asked.

“Professor McGonagall,” Harry smiled, “Sorry we couldn’t get you anything.”

“Short notice,” Ron added.

“I…thanks,” Atlas nodded and silently walked up the stairs of the girls’ dorms. She quietly nudged open the door, smiling over at Crookshanks who’d set himself up in the middle of Hermione’s bed, “Hey Crook.”

The cat meowed in return.

Atlas smiled again and then walked over to the cat, “Come on, Crook, smidge over a bit,” she ordered but the cat didn’t move, keeping his beedy orange eyes on the girl in silent protest. Atlas grumbled something under her breath and quietly dropped the two bags she had on her shoulders to the floor. “Move, Crookshanks.”

This time he did, but only enough to leave a space for Atlas to lay his owner. Carefully, Atlas sat down on the edge of Hermione’s bed and let go of her legs, taking the girls arms from around her neck so she would gently fall to her bed. At this accomplishment, Atlas took off the girls shoes and jacket – not entirely comfortable with fully undressing the girl – to pull the covers up and snug at her neck.

“Night, Mione…” Atlas walked over to her own bed, kicking off her shoes and taking off her shirt, leaving her illuminated by the moonlight. She had her pyjama shirt tucked underneath her pillow and took it out, doing the same for her bottoms which she promptly changed into shortly after. It was a quick and easy process usually, but after carrying Hermione and leaning on it all day, her arm hurt just a tad.

“Atlas…?” Hermione’s sleepy voice called, Atlas turned and glanced over her shoulder, just as she had pulled her shoes back on.

“Yeah?”

“Where are you going…?”

“…just going for a walk before curfew.”

“Ok…Atlas?”

“Yeah?”

There was a little bit of silence and Atlas was sure the girl had gone back to sleep, that was until she heard her again, whispering this time as if she didn’t mind if it wasn’t heard, “…happy birthday…”

A chuckle and then — “thanks, Mi…”

“Mhmm…I’m sorry.”

“Me too…” Atlas smiled, walking over to Hermione and pushing her forehead against hers, “go to sleep,” she didn’t get a real response but did hear the light snores of the girl, that was enough to confirm she’d fallen asleep. Crookshanks mewed quietly so Atlas placed a kiss on the top of his head, scratching behind his ear before turning and exiting the room again.

When Atlas made it to the common area she was relieved to see Harry and Ron had gone to bed. It wasn’t as if she didn’t want to see them, it was more she wanted to have enough time to do what she needed before curfew struck and being caught up in a conversation with the boys would lessen the time she had. So, with a sigh, she stepped out of the painting, casting an ‘I’ll be back in a moment’ to the Fat Lady who scolded her for going out so late.

The halls of Hogwarts were silent at this time, most already calming down in their respective common rooms or wandering absentmindedly. Atlas was neither of those, instead, she had a destination that wasn’t the dorms and soon she found herself before the painting of fruit, her hand reaching out to tickle the pear in the bowl. The secret door swung open and she stepped inside, bombarded immediately by House Elves ready to serve her.

“Miss Black! Fobbo missed you!” A small figure collided with her leg, wrapping his lanky arms around the girls middle.

“Fobbo, how have you been?” she smiled, crouching down and taking the little elf’s hands in hers. He grinned wide and hopped around, swinging his arms about bashfully as he quickly fired his responses.

“Fobbo has been good! And Fobbo finished the book Miss Black gifted him!” He told, snapping his fingers so a book appeared in his palm. It was an old tale Minerva had given her when she was young, about two girl’s, one, a shapeshifter and the other, a rich girl whose only salvation was the shapeshifter. They’d fallen in love but they could not be together, for their worlds were different in so many ways. “Fobbo found it enjoyable! But the ending made Fobbo very sad…it is sad they could not be together, Fobbo thinks.”

“I thought so too, Fobbo, maybe you can think of an alternative ending?” she smiled tiredly, looking up when a short cough sounded around the kitchen. Atlas looked up with an eyebrow raised, standing straight and taking Fobbo’s hand when he stretched it out to her nervously, “Diggory, what are you doing here?”

“Well–” Cedric side-stepped, revealing a whole table of iced cupcakes lined up on trays upon trays behind him, “I knew you’d come here tonight…and I decided I’d bake you something,” Atlas went to speak but the boy promptly cut her off, shaking his head and crossing his arms with a fond but sad smile, “I know you don’t necessarily like…today…but, I always used to say you should look on the bright side because it was a year closer to me graduating and us hanging out for all of eternity.”

“I do recall,” Atlas sighed, moving to sit down at the bench the little cupcakes and a single candle lay. Fobbo jumped into her lap, tapping his feet excitedly against the floor. The benches were low to accommodate the elves so Atlas’s knees bent quite a bit, just as Cedric’s did when he eventually sat down as well.

“However, now that you go to Hogwarts we can see each other whenever we want, this can be like…a…celebratory thing. The year Atlas Black got to hang out with Cedric Diggory,” he beamed, incredibly proud of himself. Atlas had no choice but to smile with him, Fobbo cheering at her reaction and urging for the rest of the elves to celebrate too. They did. Of course, they did, Atlas had always been nice to them and seeing her smiling on a day she’d been said to usually be sad on was a treat.

“Thanks, Ced,” Atlas found herself saying, pulling the boy into a short hug. After, she turned and looked over the cupcakes, “So…how many of these did you actually bake?”

“I’m offended.”

“And I feel deceived. How many, Diggory?”

Silence.

“He only decorated them.”

“Fobbo!” Cedric cried.

“Sorry Master Diggory but Fobbo can not lie to Miss Black,” the little elf said nervously, twiddling with his thumbs.

“I lit the candle,” Cedric added as if it made his whole participation in the project that much more important. “And mixed the icing.”

“I expected about as much,” Atlas smiled, picking up the lone cupcake that had a candle in it and bringing it to her face, scars and all illuminated by the fire’s golden glow, “Happy Birthday, me.”

“Happy Birthday, Las…”

“Happy Birthday, Miss Black!”

The candle died out and cheers sounded from the crowd of elves surrounding them.