Chapter 68

One of the things Atlas had noticed since being back in Hogsmeade on the regular was that the people there didn’t treat her as horribly as they had done many months prior. Well, they didn’t to begin with, rather they treated her as if she were a plague, with no particular feeling besides wariness and that had been due to her ‘serial killer’ father being on the loose. If only they knew the truth. Soon, Atlas had kept telling herself, soon her father’s name would be cleared and she could visit him, could live with him on occasion and the people would find themselves swallowing their words.

Well, they might already be because as Atlas mosied her way through the village, the only attention she got was favourable, the odd compliment there, a congratulation from across the street and a cheer from somewhere behind or forward. Of course, there were still a few that treated her as they had last year, no doubt having read the articles Skeeter had published, Atlas, however, didn’t care. Didn’t have it in her to care. 

Instead, she walked right by them, throwing waves and responses to those who treated her kindly as she hoisted her backpack higher on her shoulder and continued up the High Street, past Dervish and Banges, and out toward the very edge of the village. Right by Minerva’s old cottage, her original cottage that she’d had to move out of when Atlas was five, near the stile that led into the trees. It was where she’d found Fobbo, in fact, curled up in a sack used for transporting Defensive equipment when she was little. That very tree line.

She marched past the old house, casting it a sideways glance with a reminiscent smile that quickly turned sour. Those walls may hold some of her happiest memories but they were overruled by the bad that came with them and as she caught the carnage of what her past self had left behind, she couldn’t help the shudder that wracked her, her thoughts drifting back to the day Bella had almost lost her leg. She could still feel her magic wafting from its ruin, see faint pockets of black mist that lingered, she was only young when she’d caused it but the presence it gave was as if from something ancient and sacred, not to be messed with. So she steered clear, taking a longer route to arrive at the bottom of the mountain she’d been intending to find.

Then she started her ascent, climbing up and over the boulders and rocks that littered the path, all jagged or blunt and very much capable of some serious damage should she fall. The walk itself was alright and if her legs had been up to their usual standard she would have made short work of the path, no doubt. But Atlas just wasn’t so lucky, even with Poppy’s help, her wounds were just slow to fully heal. That was probably her fault, however, considering how careless she was during recovery periods.

For nearly twenty minutes she heaved herself up that mountain face, unbuttoning the top few buttons of her shirt at some point to allow the cool air to hit the topmost part of her neck and rolling up her pant legs for the very same reason. She wiped the sweat from her brow on her shirt sleeve, adjusting her bag for the nth time that climb as she shifted a gear, now jogging up the rest of the way. 

Though she did stop a moment, turning to enjoy the view and to catch her breath while her heart thundered in her ears from her short run. Noon’s high and beaming sun gleaming across the village, further brushing across the glade that hid magical creatures beneath its tall grass. Atlas honestly would never set foot in that field and figured it was isolated on its own island in the middle of the Black Lake for a reason. A reason she didn’t care to know.

Finally, the top came in view and with it, a familiar face, Hermione Granger was stood just outside the narrow fissure she knew to lead into a larger cave beyond, her arms crossed with a foot tapping the floor impatiently. Atlas grinned and snuck quietly over to her, arms raised and when she got close enough she grabbed Hermione around the waist and hauled her into the air, spinning around.

“Hey, you!”

“Atlas! Put me down, that’s dangerous!” Hermione yelled and Atlas obliged, setting her down with a grin. “Idiot.”

“Ouch,” Atlas winced and backed up, running a hand through her hair. Hermione looked at her a moment, her throat bobbing as she suddenly turned away and coughed. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Mhmm,” Atlas slowly smirked. “You seem fidgety, do I make you nervous, Mi?”

“What? Why would you make me nervous?” Hermione scoffed, crossing her arms. A telltale sign she was getting defensive.

“Dunno. Why do I make you nervous?” Hermione rolled her eyes and Atlas laughed. “Kidding, Mi. Did you at least miss me?”

“We literally came to Hogsmeade together.”

“I know but…” Atlas drifted, shaking out her legs as she continued to smile. “Don’t you hate being away from me? I’m your person, am I not?”

“You are but I don’t have Separation Anxiety, Atlas.”

“Hmm, remember when I stayed at Hogsmeade for two days and when I came back we had an argument?” Atlas mused idly and Hermione puffed up indignantly, “yeah, so you were saying?”

“Completely different reason. I was worried because of the task,” She seethed and Atlas simply waggled her eyebrows. “I can function without you, you know? I go loads of places without you!”

“First of all, ouch. Second of all, I bet you replace me with Krum,” Atlas jeered.

“Oh shut it, you’re literally irreplaceable and you know it,” Hermione scoffed, nudging her shoulder as she slipped through the narrow entrance to the cave, leaving Atlas outside for a moment, the girl clutching her backpack straps as a sudden pit of insecurity set in. She shook it off and followed after her, having to take her rucksack off halfway through to slip through the crack and then she made it fully inside, looking up to momentarily admire the open ceiling. It was very pretty.

“Pumpkin!”

Atlas grinned, “dad!” her arms were open immediately, accepting the skeletal form of her dad in an excited embrace, he pulled away a moment later, grinning from ear to ear as she set her bag at his feet. “I got you a present.”

“I could smell it!” He boomed, crouching down to open her pack. Though, Atlas was soon attacked by another form, a feathery one this time, with big orange eyes that beamed with glee. It was Buckbeak and goodness Atlas was quickly elated at the mere sight of him.

“Buckbeak!”

The giant bird simply chirped, pushing his head against her eagerly as she pet him and scrunched his feathery face up in her hands. He looked ok, not in the greatest of conditions but considering – like Sirius – he’d been on the run he was looking as good as he could, a few patches where he’d suffered from a bit of feather loss here and a healed scar there. But to be honest, Buckbeak looked proud of them and well, if there was one thing everybody knew about Hippogriffs, it was that they’re proud creatures. So it was best Atlas didn’t fuss over them too much and make them out to be a bad thing, it would only upset her feathered friend. 

“So,” Atlas smiled, looking over at her father and friends. “What did I miss?”

“We were talking about Crouch, about how he’s gone off the grid and his past,” Ron answered and Atlas nodded, raising her arm when Buckbeak wiggled to get beneath it, chirping softly at the back of his throat. The boy cast a look over to Hermione. “And you know how Hermione’s been, she says it’s comeuppance for sacking Winky when she was found with Harry’s wand.”

“It is!”

“Did you know he sent his own son to Azkaban, Atlas?” Harry asked, leaving Ron and Hermione to argue back and forth.

“Yeah, he died, didn’t he? Barty Crouch Junior. His wife died not soon after. Everyone thinks it’s why Crouch went off the deep end,” Atlas nodded. “Man lost everything, his family, reputation, any shot he ever had at Minister.”

Sirius muttered in agreement as he tossed the remnants of his lunch over to Buckbeak. The Hippogriff came out from beneath Atlas’s arm and padded over to them, skidding slightly as he came to a stop and began wolfing up the carcasses of bone and leftover crumbs.

“Do you think he did it?” Harry continued and Atlas sort of froze up, her shoulders tensing as her jaw grew tight, heavy and defined. 

“Yes.”

Was the quick and sure answer she gave. Barty Crouch Jr. was a budding Death Eater caught in the company of Bellatrix, Redolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, the ones responsible for Frank and Alice Longbottom’s torture. Neville’s parents. 

“Let’s uh…let’s drop that,” Sirius murmured, noticing how a storm of thunderous rage rolled and glazed his daughter’s eyes. “You were saying he’s ill, Harry?” he continued as Buckbeak came ambling back, curling around Atlas to then pull her to the ground. She was startled at the movement, even ended up falling to her behind with a grimace but soon smiled when she heard Hermione failing to stifle her amused laughs. She did idly scolded Buckbeak however and tried to shuffle to alleviate some pain.

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve read the Daily Prophet…though I don’t really know how much I believe that,” Harry shrugged and Atlas nodded along, scratching the underside of Buckbeaks chin.

“He’s been sneaking up to the castle dad, missing out on the tasks but finding time to come here,” she added.

“He sneaked up here to search Snape’s office!” Ron said.

“Yes, and that doesn’t make sense at all,” Sirius sighed.

“Yeah, it does!” Ron shouted excitedly. He had been completely onboard with Harry when the boy said Snape was incredibly suspicious, whether it was because he genuinely believed it or because he wanted to make up for the time he lost with Harry due to their arguing, probably both. 

Sirius shook his head, “Listen, if Crouch wants to investigate Snape, why hasn’t he been coming to judge the tournament? It would be an ideal excuse to make regular visits to Hogwarts and keep an eye on him.”

“But do you think Snape could be up to something, then?” Harry asked but Hermione broke in before Sirius could reply.

“Look, I don’t care what you say, Dumbledore trusts Snape –“

“Dumbledores judgement is something to be taken with a grain of salt, Hermione,” Atlas interrupted, suddenly looking sour, “he knows things, many things but doesn’t use his knowledge to help a persons misery. His hiring of staff hasn’t always been top tier either. Or are you forgetting Quirrell, who housed Voldemort on the back of his head and Lockhart who couldn’t cast a successful spell any better than Filch?”

There was silence between the five, Harry and Ron staring at her in bewilderment while Hermione looked confused, questioning and concerned. Sirius just looked upon his daughter with a hint of sadness as he nodded.

“Atlas is right,” he declared and the boys turned to look at him, Hermione, however, continued to stare at Atlas who tried to discretely rub at her watering eyes. “Dumbledore is a brilliant…wizard who will hire even a werewolf and pay any elf that desired it, however, that does not mean he does not make mistakes.”

“So there could be a chance Snape is up to no good?” Ron asked with a grin.

“Look, ever since I found out Snape was teaching here, I’ve wondered why Dumbledore hired him. Snape’s always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was,” Sirius added, and Harry and Ron grinned at each other, Atlas simply smiled, staring out of the mouth to the cave. “Snape knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year, and he was part of a gang of Slytherins who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters.”

Sirius held up his fingers and began ticking off names.

“Rosier and Wilkes – they were both killed by Aurors the year before Voldemort fell. The Lestranges” — Atlas frowned — “they’re a married couple in Azkaban. Avery – from what I’ve heard he wormed his way out of trouble by saying he’d been acting under the Imperius Curse – he’s still at large. But as far as I know, Snape was never even accused of being a Death Eater – not that that means much. Plenty of them were never caught. And Snape’s certainly clever and cunning enough to keep himself out of trouble.”

“Snape knows Karkaroff pretty well, but he wants to keep that quiet,” Ron added.

“Yeah, you should’ve seen Snape’s face when Karkaroff turned up in Potions yesterday!” Harry said quickly. “Karkaroff wanted to talk to Snape, he says Snape’s been avoiding him. Karkaroff looked really worried. He showed Snape something on his arm, but I couldn’t see what it was. You saw it too Atlas, you said!”

“Yeah, I did, any ideas dad?” Atlas asked, finally standing up after Buckbeak had fallen asleep. She padded herself down and ended up beside Hermione, not by choice mind you, the girl had decided to grab her before she could even dust the mud from her trousers. She didn’t mind though, she would have ended up beside her either way, what bothered her was the look on Hermione’s face. It didn’t bother her in an annoying way, it was just that she knew Hermione had something she wanted to say.

“He showed Snape something on his arm?” Sirius said, looking frankly bewildered. He ran his fingers distractedly through his filthy hair, then shrugged again. “Well, I’ve no idea what that’s about…that’s something Amaya would know…are you sure it’s not mentioned in her journals Pumpkin, I know how much you like to read them.”

“No, pa…I don’t have all of them, most were burnt in the fire,” Atlas sighed, looking apologetic but Sirius smiled and reached over to ruffle her hair.

“Don’t worry about it then,” he went back to his look of confusion, “if Karkaroff’s genuinely worried, and he’s going to Snape for answers…it does sound suspicious, still there’s still the fact that Dumbledore trusts Snape, and I know Dumbledore trusts where a lot of other people wouldn’t, but I just can’t see him letting Snape teach at Hogwarts if he’d ever worked for Voldemort.”

Atlas could, she knew Dumbledore, he was the type that liked to collect people, people that were useful to him and an Ex-Death Eater would be a perfect edition. She kept quiet however and looked at her feet.

“Why are Moody and Crouch so keen to get into Snape’s office then?” Ron pressed.

“Well,” Sirius said slowly, “I wouldn’t put it past Mad-Eye to have searched every single teacher’s office when he got to Hogwarts. He takes his Defense Against the Dark Arts seriously, Moody. I’m not sure he trusts anyone at all, not since Amaya, and after the things he’s seen, it’s not surprising. I’ll say this for Moody, though, he never killed if he could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. He was tough, but he never descended to the level of the Death Eaters. He would have never even uttered the killing curse.”

“Never would have uttered it?” Atlas interrupted and Sirius turned to her, nodding.

“Never.”

“Not even as a demonstration?”

“Er — no, I don’t think so…maybe. I don’t know, things change I suppose, after your mother…died, he went off the rails a bit…why?” Atlas chewed on the inside of her cheek, shaking her head as she let out a forced and awkward sounding laugh.

“Nothing, never mind,” she waved off. “Why do you think Crouch is searching Snape’s stuff then?” She continued, looking a little stupefied behind the eyes. “If he’s really so ill he missed an event he planned and skipped work, why did he make an effort to drag himself up here?”

“That…well, I have no idea, Pumpkin,” Sirius lapsed into silence, hand to his chin as he idly stumbled around the cave, until, finally, he turned to Ron, the boy flinching slightly when Sirius’s cold eyes locked on his. “You say your brother’s Crouch’s personal assistant? Any chance you could ask him if he’s seen Crouch lately?”

“I can try,” Ron said doubtfully. “Better not make it sound like I reckon Crouch is up to anything dodgy, though. Percy loves Crouch.”

“And you might try and find out whether they’ve got any leads on Bertha Jorkins while you’re at it,” Sirius said, gesturing to a Daily Prophet he had stacked against the far wall of the cave. Atlas hadn’t noticed the pile until now and soured when she caught flickers of her face from both the first and second trial. She was somewhat happy to see, however, that they were the papers kept most clean and smooth, as if Sirius had taken special care of those that showcased her and Harry.

“Bagman told me they hadn’t,” Harry said and Atlas furrowed her brows, since when did Harry chat to Bagman?

“Yes, he’s quoted in the article in there,” Sirius frowned, nodding at the paper. “Blustering on about how bad Bertha’s memory is. Well, maybe she’s changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn’t forgetful at all – quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trouble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut. I can see her being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic…maybe that’s why Bagman didn’t bother to look for her for so long…”

“Maybe something happened,” Atlas offered and Sirius looked at her, an eyebrow raised.

“What do you mean, Pumpkin?”

“She wasn’t forgetful, I know that and you know that, mum knew that too, she wrote about all the gossip Bertha told her in her diary, Journal 94, page number, 129 –“

“You know the diary and the page number? Exactly how many times did you read those old — ?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Atlas snapped rather quickly, interrupting whatever Ron was going to say, she looked a little defensive all of a sudden, avoiding eye contact. Actually, it wouldn’t be unfair to say she looked a little insecure. Hermione and Sirius seemed to pick up on it straight away and both Harry and Ron looked at each other when they noticed a shift in their friend’s attitude. “What I’m trying to say is, what if Bertha was hurt? Injured. Like a head trauma?”

“Like a concussion?” Harry asked.

“Potentially,” Atlas nodded. “Left untreated they can alter a person’s memory, their mood and a bunch of other stuff. I had one when I was younger, I didn’t tell Poppy about it and couldn’t remember a thing, mind got all foggy and I was prone to lashing out.”

“It makes sense but Ministry Officials have regular check-ups, a concussion wouldn’t have gotten past a Healer,” Sirius sighed and then cast a fleeting look to Atlas, “your mother had them all the time, I would know.”

“So…a magically induced head injury? One that wouldn’t be detected in a regular check-up?” Atlas reasoned.

“A spell gone wrong could do that,” Hermione piped in and when everyone turned to her she continued, “I read it in a book once, for example, memory wiping spells can go disastrously wrong. In some cases, a victim would slowly lose their entire sense of self. It’s terrible really and regular once overs by busy Healers wouldn’t see it.”

“But who would do that and why?” Harry said.

“Well, you said Bertha was one for gossip,” Ron muttered and Sirius nodded, “maybe she got too nosy for her own good?”

“A panic fired memory charm would definitely harm someone’s brain,” Hermione mused. “But who?”

“Bagman did take a while to send people looking for her…” Harry suggested, “Maybe it was him?”

“Maybe…” Sirius grumbled, he heaved an enormous sigh and rubbed his shadowed eyes. “What’s the time?”

“It’s half-past three,” Hermione said after gently raising Atlas’s arm to read her watch.

“You’d better get back to school,” Sirius said, getting to his feet. “Now listen…” He looked particularly hard at Atlas and Harry. “I don’t want you lot sneaking out of school to see me, all right? Just send notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd. But you’re not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission; it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you.”

“No one’s tried to attack me so far, except a dragon and a couple of grindylows,” Harry said and Atlas nodded.

“Add a Kelpie to my mix of adversaries,” she continued dryly and Harry grinned, bumping their fists together.

“Don’t joke about that!” Sirius snapped and then turned to Harry, just Harry, “look, I need to speak with Atlas a moment, you take Hermione and Ron and go back to Hogwarts.”

“Don’t mind if I’m late then?” Atlas smiled but Sirius did not look at all moved by the joke.

“Go, Harry.”

“But–“

“No buts,” Sirius scowled and nudged the boy over to the rest of their quartet, “no wandering.”

“Right, yeah,” Harry frowned, “See you later Atlas.”

“Yeah, later mate,” Ron nodded, Hermione, however, remained silent and simply waved, leaving last out of the three. That left Sirius and Atlas alone, Buckbeak silently chittering in the background, probably dreaming of horned rabbits and juicy ferrets, he certainly looked content. It was a stark difference from the look on Sirius’s face and in turn the blooming look on Atlas’s.

They locked into silence for a moment, Atlas playing with her fingers anxiously while Sirius shook his head, rubbing at the worry lines in his forehead with grubby fingers. Now that they were alone and Atlas finally had a chance to really take in her dad’s presence, she realised just how worn he looked. She could even feel it in the air and by Merlin, the fatigue was suffocating.

“Atlas you’re in serious danger.”

“I know, and so is Harry–“

“Not as much as you.”

Atlas looked at her father doubtfully, shaking her head. “Dad that’s unfair, Harry–“

“This isn’t about Harry, Atlas!” He yelled and Atlas flinched, “he is in danger, yes, I understand that but this is not about Harry right now, I have prepared him through our letters–“

“You’ve been sending him letters–?”

“Atlas there are people trying to kill you! Your magic is losing stability and will surely do the same! Now is not the time to be like your mother!” Sirius exploded, his face contorted into a look of pure fear and worry, his eyes were blown and the colour of his face had grown red from his outburst. Atlas shut her mouth, blinking rapidly as she swallowed down the rock in her throat. “That…house, on the way up here, the remains. That was you wasn’t it? And the damage in the forest.”

She simply nodded. “What does it mean, dad?”

“It was the monster wasn’t it? The thing that triggered it?”

“How do you –?”

Sirius grabbed her shoulders.

“Was it the monster, Atlas!?”

“Yes! Yes, it was!” Atlas yelled, looking fearful. Sirius walked away, pacing around the cave and running his hands through his greasy hair on some nervous tick. “Dad, what are you not telling me?”

“Did it call you a name?”

“What…?”

“A name, Atlas. Did it call you a name!?”

“A-Astraea! It called me Astraea!”

Sirius rubbed his palms down his face and crouched, his head in his hands as he shook his head. He started to mumbled, standing up again as he talked to the sky. Muttering about Amaya, muttering about Astraea, about the Monster, muttering steps and precautions.

“Dad?”

Muttering

“Dad!?”

Muttering and Muttering

“Pap, will you look at me?!”

Muttering and Muttering and Muttering —

“Baba, I’m scared!” 

Finally, the muttering stopped, he stopped, turning to look at her, watching the sudden tears stream down her face, the shudder to her shoulders and the pure fear in her eye. It was all happening so quickly, one minute they were talking about Crouch and then, apparently her imminent demise.

“I don’t want to die.”

“You — you won’t,” Sirius said, shaking his head as he moved forward and pulled her into a sure hug, stroking down the back of her hair. “You won’t, Pumpkin. I’m sorry.”

“What isn’t anybody telling me…?” Atlas croaked, holding on that bit tighter. Sirius seemed to sigh, pulling away a minuscule amount to place a kiss on her forehead, his hands coming to stroke down the sides of her face, eyes raking across the scars of his daughters face. “Dad?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just tell me…please.”

“Atlas…I — I don’t entirely know myself,” He admitted, pulling away fully to collapse against the wall, Atlas remained stood, staring down at him, sniffling and rubbing at her tears with her fists bawled up as a child would. “You’re mother…she warned me about the Monster, warned me of…Astraea.”

“Why did it call me that?”

“…”

“Dad?”

“I don’t know…your mother only said that if it called you that, you were in terrible danger. That you were…marked.”

“Marked for what?” Atlas whispered.

“Not for…by. Marked by.”

“Marked by what, then?”

“The Monster, Atlas,” Sirius looked up at her and beckoned her forward, she complied, of course, sitting in front of him and not even fighting it when Sirius pulled her forward into a hug. “I need you to be brave, ok?”

“Ok…”

“It will come for you…it will follow you, I — I don’t know why. That would have been a question for your mother, just…I need you to be brave sweetheart, I’ll handle everything else,” Sirius squeezed and Atlas nodded, her words clogging up in her throat as she struggled to choke out an —

“O — ok.”

“I’ll protect you.”

“Yeah…” Atlas sniffled. “Dad?”

“Yes, Pumpkin?”

“Why didn’t mum tell you what it was? Why didn’t she tell you more?”

“Well, I’m not so sure she thought the Monster would really mark you as Astraea, I feel she told me the basics merely as a precaution,” Sirius explained. Atlas pulled away, catching the troubled look in her father’s eye as he looked at her, really looked at her. “Atlas…in honesty, you probably know more about your mother through her journals than I ever will.”

“I don’t understand…” Atlas confessed, shaking her head in confusion. “Didn’t you know each other? You were married, you lived together, did questions never arise at diner? After she’d gotten back from work or…or experimenting on something?”

“Atlas…look, I loved her, I really did love her but…you have to understand, I was disowned but she wasn’t and…well purebloods have duties to uphold, they need to carry on the bloodline and…” Sirius caught the look on his daughters face, the innocence, the curiosity, the confusion that would soon turn painful should he continue. So he didn’t, he stopped and Atlas caught how he shifted his tone and topic. “We just didn’t talk about work, Death Eaters aren’t a very nice topic at diner.”

“Right…” Atlas nodded. He was hiding something but she knew by the look in his eye it was something she wouldn’t be able to deal with in her current state of mind, so she didn’t pursue it. “Did she never mention anything? Nothing at all?”

“Never.”

“Not even her book?”

“The jibberish book?”

“Yeah.”

“No, she just…published it, not long before you were born, never talked about it and didn’t attend any events for it,” Sirius told. 

“So…you don’t know who Visha is?”

“I can’t say I do, no,” Sirius offered apologetically and Atlas simply nodded. “Look, you should get going now too.”

“What about the Kelpie?”

“Right, yes…that Kelpie, Atlas who do you truly think let it loose?”

“Well…I thought it was the Monster.”

“Do you still feel that way?”

“No, I…I don’t but there’s no one else it could have been. Well…”

“Yes?”

“Dad would it be crazy if I thought…if I thought Moody set it loose?”

“I — er — Moody? Atlas, he was your mothers closest ally, I really don’t think he would harm you. Why do you think that?”

“No reason, don’t worry I was just being stupid,” Atlas waved off, standing and rubbing her eyes clean of leftover tears. 

“Are you sure? Tell me, I’ll listen–“

“No, no, it was stupid. I’m just being paranoid now,” She smiled tightly and Sirius looked at her in concern. “Really, it was just a spur of the moment thing.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I am. Look, I have to go, it’s getting late,” Atlas grabbed her empty pack from the floor. “Stay safe, dad.”

“You too, Pumpkin. I love you.”

“Right, yeah. See you, pa.”