Chapter 73

72 times. That’s how many mornings Atlas had found herself in Madam Pomfrey’s hospital wing, how many instances she had awoken, confused and with some sort of injury, with Minerva or Poppy by her side, sometimes Bella or even Hagrid, without counting the nights she had not awoken from the next day, the dreamless but nightmarish times her injuries were so severe it took her many unconscious days to recover.

Whether it be from falling from a height, stumbling across dangerous beasts in the forest or even accidents at home, Atlas always found herself back in one of the hospital beds. She joked about it, joked about how unlucky she was and how accident-prone she’d grown to be, she had to otherwise she would cry because it really was a pain, waking up here instead of her bed 72 times.

Well, 73 now.

Atlas sat up, tentatively touching the bandage around her head as she did, a grimace on her face and a headache remaining shackled at the back of her mind, making a racket that made the hairs on her arms stand on end. The curtains surrounding her were pulled back and Minerva smiled sadly upon seeing her state, rolling in a plate of breakfast that Atlas seemed to curl her nose at. Merlin, she feared if she ate it she’d just throw it up again.

“Morning dear…”

“Morning…” Atlas muttered, clenching her eyes shut as she attempted to just get over herself. She let out a breath, opening them again and reaching forward, shaky hands picking up polished cutlery, the sausages, eggs, toast and just, everything looking anything but appetising. There was nothing she could do, her body reacted before her mind did and she dropped her knife and fork, shaking her head as her hands clenched into fists. “I can’t eat it…”

“You need to, Poppy says your medication will only work on a full stomach. With it, you’ll be completely fine by tomorrow. So try, my dear, please?” 

“I’m so tired, Minnie…”

“I know sweetheart, I know –“

“Do you?” Atlas murmured, “Minnie…I can’t recall a single night I woke up in my own bed as a kid, I know it happened, you know it happened, you were there, it had to of but I don’t remember it…but you know what I do remember? Every single time I have woken up in this infirmary. I can remember the injuries, the pain, the people that I saw when I woke up, everything. I hated coming up to the castle because of it.”

“I know…and I remember as well…” Minerva smiled softly and Atlas looked up, watching as Minnie slowly took a seat beside her, “All 72…73 times you have woken up here, all 459 times you have needed Poppy’s care…but do you know what I also remember?”

“What…?”

“I remember how you persevered, flourished.”

“But…I’m just so tired…tired of getting hurt, recovering only to get hurt all over again, sometimes even worse than before.”

“Do you — do you feel as if you want to give up?”

“…I don’t want to die,” Atlas whispered, sniffling as she wiped at her eyes, “But I don’t want to just survive either,” she glanced up at her food, reaching forward to pick up her knife and fork once more. “I want to live.”

“So you will…”

“So I will…” Atlas echoed, slicing up a bite of her food and raising it to her mouth, withholding her sobs as her tears began to fall. She tried and tried to hide them but they just kept coming, forming patches of darkened fabric in her lap, streaks down her cheeks. There was just no hiding them.

“Let it out, my dear…let it out,” Minera whispered, pulling her into her side and kissing the top of her head. They sat like that for a while, Atlas crying as she tried to eat, Minerva comforting her goddaughter as she did, it was quiet, serene and a true release. Atlas, the girl tired of getting hurt and Minerva, the woman tired of failing to protect those she saw as her children. 

Hours later, Atlas hobbled out of the infirmary, a spare bandage in hand and a stomach full of food ready to aid her recovery. She stopped and remained still when the doors closed behind her, contemplating silently, not about anything really, just static noise, contemplating on static noise, she was simply dazed, out of it as some would say until she reeled herself back in, beginning her trek to wherever her feet would take her.

As she walked, her mind flitted back to the night before, steering clear of Crouch and, instead, focussing on what had happened before. What had happened with Krum. The Bulgarian Seekers words echoed and taunted her for things she could not say. Their conversation mocked her and Krum’s look of triumph when she’d admitted she could not say what he’d urged her to, stained the underside of her eyelids. 

A single drop of water spattered against her face, stirring her from her thoughts as she slowly realised she’d stumbled outside and the path she’d been walking down, she realised, was leading back to Hogsmeade. It was soon hidden, however, by the mist that had been kicked up by the sudden onslaught of rain, leaving Atlas to stare out through the torrent, her clothes soaked through in seconds.

“Atlas!”

The rain suddenly stopped, at least, Atlas thought so but the haze was still rising around her and the rain had only grown heavier, yet none fell upon her. Not a drop. She turned and stared down into warm brown and concerned eyes, finding them filled with relief but crippling worry.

“What are you doing out here? When did you get out of the infirmary?” Hermione reached up, placing her warm palm to Atlas’s cheek, her thumb brushing over the scar that slashed through her eye and cut into her cheek. “Jesus, you’re freezing!”

“Hermione.”

“We need to get you inside, Harry, Ron and I were just on our way to see you. We just got Sirius’s reply from the letter we sent yesterday and didn’t want to read it without you — oh will you stop gawking and follow me?!” Hermione huffed and Atlas blindly walked after her, gaze downcast as she eyed Hermione’s hand, the one that – any moment now – Hermione would offer and when she would — when she did, Atlas didn’t take it. “Atty?”

“You were saying…about the letter?” Atlas asked quietly and Hermione was now the one to stop and stare, her shoulder getting wet from how her hold on her summoned umbrella grew a slight bit weaker. Atlas pulled out her own wand, summoning a large barrier over their head so that when Hermione’s spell dropped, they did not get wet. “Hermione, you were saying?”

“The letter, right Harry — Harry’s got it.”

“Great,” Atlas nodded, smiling slightly as they walked over to where Harry and Ron were, the both of them looking at Atlas apprehensively. Ron, surprisingly, pulled her into a hug, one that was short and a little awkward, not to mention uncomfortable considering Atlas was soaked but it was sort of welcome, Harry walked forward next, ruffling her wet hair and smiling adoringly.

“Good to see you up, are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, just a bit tired,” Atlas shrugged and pulled out a roll of cloth, the spare bandage Poppy had given her, “Might need you to bandage my head up again though if you don’t mind.”

“Er –” Harry glanced over at Hermione as he slowly took the bandage, “Isn’t Hermione better at this than me?”

“Oh…right,” Atlas took it back and turned to Hermione, hesitantly holding it out to her, gaze to the side. “Could you…patch me up then?”

“Of course…”

“Thanks,” Atlas muttered, drawing her hand away quickly when the fabric left her hand. Hermione seemed to turn it over in her palm, looking at Atlas with some indiscernible look behind her eye before she sighed and walked ahead, leaving the three of them behind her. Ron was soon to follow, Harry going next while Atlas ambled at the very back, playing with her hands.

“What was that about?” Harry whispered and when Atlas didn’t respond he continued. “Is this about what Krum said?”

“No.” She answered way too quickly, Harry made a face of understanding.

“Forget what he said, Atlas. He’s a ruddy pumpkin head as Ron says, nothing up there but sawdust. So what if you can’t say it, doesn’t stop you from feeling it.”

“It would to Hermione.”

“I doubt she’d force you into saying it, she’s understanding, especially when it’s you. She’d be patient.”

“Yeah, trouble is, she’s got a crush on some total unknown. Like, every time I bring it up she just says talks about something else,” Atlas grumbled. “Krum’s right anyway, I was trying to act all sure of myself, saying I could make her happy, I could protect her…but look at me Harry, I can’t even protect myself.”

“That’s not fair on yourself and you know it,” Harry scowled but Atlas ignored him, pushing ahead to catch up with Ron as they enter the Great Hall. They sat, as a group, at the Gryffindor table, drawing eyes when Atlas sat, the girl, soaked through and staring down at the empty plate in front of her. She thought of her brunch that morning and swallowed down a lump in her throat, shifting away and staring across the room.

“Hey…” Hermione called gently and Atlas turned, eyes set first on her face then dropping down to where she held that spare bandage Atlas had given to her earlier. “Want me to change your bandage now?”

“Ok,” Atlas nodded, throwing a leg over to straddle the bench, her full attention on Hermione, well, her full physical attention on her, her chest was aligned with Hermione’s but she tried to keep their eye contact to a minimum. Hermione hesitantly rose a hand to unwrap the sodden bandage that hid Atlas’s wound beneath, seeking to replace it as quickly as she could. All the while Atlas remained quiet, no smart remarks or charming comments leaving her tight-lipped mouth.

“How come you’re not fully healed then?” Ron asked, breaking the silence.

“Poppy didn’t fix it last night…she wants me to try just potions for a bit instead of both,” Atlas murmured, trying not to pay attention to how careful Hermione was being, how softly she brushed her fingertips across her skin, through her hair and down the side of her cheek. She restrained herself from leaning into the touch and instead pulled ever so slightly away from it. But Hermione noticed, of course, she’d notice.

“All done.”

“Thanks, Hermione.”

“No problem.”

“So…” Atlas turned away, looking at her friends as a whole. “What did you do this morning?”

“We went and saw Moody, asked if he’d found anything last night,” Harry replied and when Atlas urged for him to continue, he frowned, sighing, “He says he’s sorry, they didn’t find anything, even with the Marauders map, couldn’t find Crouch anywhere.”

“I can’t believe he attacked you the tosser,” Ron scowled.

“What?”

“Krum says Crouch was the one that attacked him,” Hermione told and by Merlin, hearing his name roll off of her tongue made Atlas feel indescribably wrong. Sick, as if someone had taken hold of her stomach and twisted it, punched it, kicked it. Merlin, she hated it, she felt so stupid. Especially when that wasn’t what she should have been focussing on, she should just ignore that for now, focus on what was important.

“Crouch didn’t attack him, he didn’t attack me either, there was someone else. They took Crouch, I saw them,” Atlas refuted, turning to look back into the reflection of her dinner plate, eyeing the bandage with distaste.

“Who, Atlas?”

“I…I don’t know, I tried to — I really did try to see them but…I was so dizzy…” Atlas whispered, holding her face in her hands. She took a moment, feeling the gazes of her friends upon her as she did but she ignored them, recomposed herself and looked back up, directly at Harry, “You said you got Snuffles’s response.”

“Snuffles…? Oh! Right, yeah,” Harry plunged his hand into his robe pocket, pulling out a letter to place in front of the four of them, positioning it so they could all read Sirius’s messy handwriting. Honestly, it barely passed as words in Atlas’s book. It was clearly written in a hurry, the chaotic scrawls conveying his panic and borderline-anger at their stupidity but also at the news Atlas had gotten hurt, seemed Harry had let that slip in his letter. It read:

Harry, Atlas –

What do you think you two are playing at, walking off into the forest with Viktor Krum? I want you to swear, by return owl, that you are not going to go walking with anyone else at night. Either of you. There is somebody highly dangerous at Hogwarts. It is clear to me that they wanted to stop Crouch from seeing Dumbledore and you two were mere feet away from them in the dark the entire time. You could have been killed, Harry. And Atlas, you almost were, I would have thought you’d known better than to wander off into the Forbidden Forest after who you encountered.

Your names didn’t get into the Goblet of Fire by accident. Someone’s trying to attack you and they’re on their last chance. Stay close to Ron and Hermione – both of you – do not leave Gryffindor Tower after hours, and arm yourself for the third task. Practice Stunning and Disarming. A few hexes wouldn’t go amiss either. There’s nothing you can do about Crouch so don’t try – I’m looking at you, Atlas. Keep your head down and look after yourself. I’m waiting for your letter giving me your word you won’t stray out-of-bounds again.

Heal well, Atlas.

Snuffles.

“Who’s he, to lecture me about being out-of-bounds?” Harry huffed in mild indignation as he folded up Sirius’s letter and put it inside his robes. Atlas merely frowned, worried she might have disappointed her dad, she agreed with him, however, what had she been thinking? Walking off into the Forbidden Forest after what had happened with The Monster. “After all the stuff he did at school!”

“He’s worried about you! The both of you and so am I!” Hermione snapped. “Just like Moody and Hagrid! So listen to them!”

“No one’s tried to attack me all year,” Harry grumbled. “No one’s done anything to me at all –“

“Atlas has been!” Hermione spat, her brows narrowed as she glared at Harry, looking angrier than all three of them had ever seen her. “Or did you forget how many times she’s been in the hospital this year, you prick!”

“Hermione…” Atlas spoke, looking at her with wide eyes. “It’s fine, Harry was just –“

“Moping because he can’t go play detective?” Hermione scowled. “This is serious Harry! There is somebody out there, maybe…I don’t know! Biding their time. Ever since they put your names in the Goblet of Fire. Snuffles is right. You two need to stay with me and Ron.”

“Look,” Harry tried, seemingly seeking to ease the tension, “I’m just saying, I don’t think that person is really after us, they were clearly after Crouch, we weren’t the target. Krum was collateral, so was Atlas.”

“Collateral!?” Hermione burst and Atlas winced, placing a hand on Hermione’s shoulder, she knew what Harry meant, she understood what he was saying but Merlin’s beard, he did not word it quite as delicately as he should have. “How could you whittle her down to collateral!?”

“Hermione, I didn’t mean it like that…I’m just saying, maybe she was in the wrong place at the wrong time?” Harry grimaced as Hermione continued to glare at him. They descended into silence, just staring at each other, violent sparks between them that drew the gazes of those surrounding. Ron muttered something to Harry in concern while Atlas moved closer to Hermione, rubbing her back.

“He didn’t mean it like that, Mi. Come on, calm down, have some juice or –“

“Calm down?” Hermione shook, clenching her hands into fists as she suddenly stood up from the bench, head down, her hair covering her eyes. “You want me to calm down?”

“Mi –“

“Why am I the only one who sees how bad this is?” She breathed, raising her bundled fists to her eyes, wiping at her tears. Atlas looked up at her, mouth slightly agape while her brows slowly slanted downward, her hand reaching toward her only to stop mid-air. “I need to go…I need to…prepare a list of spells for you two to learn for the third task, I need to — to help. In the meantime, you — you make sure you write back to Sirius and promise him you’re not going to go sneaking off alone again.”

“Hermione –” Hermione had already grabbed her things and ran out of the Hall, leaving Atlas stood, her arm outstretched to grab her before she left. Harry looked down and into his plate, a frown firm on his lips while Ron remained simply still, chewing slowly on his dinner with a stricken look on his face. Atlas slumped back into her chair, swallowing solidly as she stared down and into her hand, raising it to brush against the bandage wrapped around her head.

Giggles sounded from somewhere across the hall and Atlas looked up, catching sight of Pansy Parkinson, whispering and snickering behind them with her gang of Slytherin girls. They looked up, each of them one by one, Pansy last, first looking to her friends in confusion and then over to Atlas and the smirk on her face when hers and Atlas’s eyes caught had Atlas’s blood running hot. She stood, leaning across the Slytherin table, looking entirely too smug.

“What’s wrong with her, Black? Did you and your girlfriend split up? That Love potion finally wear off? If so, I’m glad, now you can find someone who’s not some jumped up Mudblood! Someone…superior.” Pansy called, silencing those that were still lingering from dinner, a few shocked laughs came from her Slytherin girls and a few even echoed from some of the other house tables. But the Gryffindors were silent, deathly so as they all slowly turned to Atlas, watching her with some trepidation.

“Atlas…Atlas, she’s not worth it,” Harry hissed as Atlas simply stared, jaw clenching and unclenching with her fists as she slowly began walking around the Gryffindor table, her fingers itching to wrap around the length of her wand. She could hear it humming, violently in her ear, ready and excited to defend Hermione’s honour, to punish those who dared besmirch the name of someone its master cared so deeply for.

Another form stopped her, two actually, Katie and Angelina, their faces just as angered as all the other Gryffindors, Alicia was behind them, looking ready to stand if necessary. Katie spoke first, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t do it. They planned this, I heard them talking about it. They’ll call Snape…they said he’d stop you like he did in the Dungeons.”

“We’ll get them back,” Angelina assured.

“Yeah just…walk it off,” Alicia tried.

“Are you running away, Black?!” Pansy called and Atlas gritted her teeth, “Wow, it really must be true! She really used a Love Potion on you? I mean, of course, she did, you could never really love her right? Do you hate her now? You did look really uncomfortable next to her! Don’t worry, next time Skeeter asks for an interview I’ll tell her all about this. Mudbloods bound to get more mail…” she muttered that last bit to her friends but Atlas heard. She heard everything.

“I swear I’m gonna knock pug faces teeth out,” Katie grumbled but in her brief distraction, Atlas had slipped past her and rounded on the Slytherin table, storming straight up to Pansy, the girl lost in her laughter and unaware of the fist flying straight across her face. Not until it was too late.

Atlas was sure she saw a tooth fly from the girl’s mouth but she didn’t really care, the noise in her head was too loud, the numbness of her arms too occupying, the subtle cramp in her chest too prominent. She stared down on the bleeding girl, breathing heavy, shoulders rising and setting in unsteady movements, her eyes were hot, white-hot, she could practically feel them glowing. She closed them hastily, forcing them under control before opening them again but it was too late, Pansy had seen, the horror on her face told Atlas as much and the next few words to leave her mouth reinforced that thought.

“Monster!”

Monster. 

“Her — her eyes! They glow! They — they glow!”

The glowing-eyed Monster.

“Think you might’ve hit your head, Parkinson,” A voice said. Harry’s voice and then Ron’s hands as he grasped Atlas’s shoulders, pulling her away and towards where Angelina, Katie and Alicia stood, looking concerned as they stared at Atlas and then furious when they glanced over at the Slytherins. As did the rest of the Gryffindors, all now standing and ready to jump at the Slytherins who’d all stood around Pansy, glaring upon the Lion House. 

“She’s a monster!”

“Shut your trap, pug face! You should be thanking Atlas for the nose job!”

“Professor Snape!” / “Professor McGonagall!”

The shouts faded to static, the chaos that ensued was blurred and the aftermath drew blank, as all Atlas could think about was her own monstrous glowing eyes and the ones that haunted her nights, the ones that murdered her mother. And she couldn’t help but think how similar she and the monster truly were.

AN: Happy Birthday JabberJay ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ