Chapter 112

Occlumency lessons with Snape had come to an end with Harry, Atlas didn’t know why, Harry wouldn’t tell the truth, always rattling off something about carrying on by himself. She didn’t buy it but she hadn’t asked because every time she made to, Harry would look so sad she lost all nerve. So it had become a taboo topic, one Hermione seemed to have no qualms breaching on. She brought it up every moment she could, telling Harry he really ought to go back to Snape or reprimanding him for brushing it off. 

Atlas understood, she really did, Hermione’s worries weren’t unwarranted, in fact, they were completely justified. Harry needed to learn how to block Voldemort out, lest the Dark Lord become aware of their connection and use it in his favour. But, Atlas didn’t say anything, Harry was getting enough reminders from Hermione and considering they were coming into OWL season, the summer term in full swing, Atlas didn’t think he needed the extra stress.

Hermione hadn’t been happy about her inaction.

Right now, however, Atlas didn’t need to worry about Hermione’s scalding gaze, instead, she could sit back and relax, looking up at the dark starry sky of the Divination room as Firenze retold a story of his youth. For what reason, Atlas didn’t know, she didn’t even know which story he was telling, too busy looking up at the swirling stars, constantly in motion and replicating what they looked like from the beginning of time to the here and now.

Ron was beside her, snoring inappropriately loud but not so much it was distracting any of the enamoured listeners from Firenze’s passionate retelling and on her other side, a blank space, untaken. Harry was at a careers meeting, one where they would discuss their future jobs. Which Atlas didn’t have to attend. Luckily, she already knew what she wanted to do and was aware of the grades she needed, so Minerva had said she could sit this out. Whether it was because of that aforementioned reason or because Umbridge would be overseeing the entire thing, Atlas wasn’t sure. Either way, she was thankful.

The bell rang and the dazed students jolted to life, letting out quiet groans when Firenze declared he would finish the story next time. Atlas grabbed her bag and kicked Ron lightly as she stood, grimacing when she stretched out her back and felt it weep, soaking into the patch. She needed to get it changed again, she had changed it once during the Easter holiday, Winky was an absolute star when it came to dressing it but it seemed she’d need to make another trip. Not that the elves would mind.

“Atlas Magianima,” Atlas stopped, a groggy Ron stumbling to a stop behind her. “Atlas Magianima, a word.”

“…you go on Ron,” Atlas said, nudging the boy toward the exit.

“We’ve got Defense Against the Dark Arts next, you can’t be late,” Ron frowned, awakening slowly. Atlas smiled and shook her head, motioning for him to get moving which he eventually did after another measly protest.

“This won’t take long,” Firenze promised and Atlas turned, looking up at him curiously. “Atlas Magianima, have you been harmed?”

“Pardon?” Atlas asked, suddenly rigid as the grip she had around her bag tightened.

“There is a disturbance within you, though you have always been rife with chaos, I sense a difference,” Firenze said simply and Atlas shuffled, furrowing her brows. “If you do not wish to tell me, that is fine, however, if you are injured, it might interest you to know any plants within this room are not artificial, their properties are just as beneficial as those found in the Forest. As a centaur, I know the properties of most plants that humans do not and as your friend, I will impart some of this knowledge to you.”

“…do you –?” Atlas chewed her words over, adjusting her weight from foot to foot. She had just been thinking of this, so it would be worth a shot, “do you have anything for burns?”

“Burns of what magnitude?” Firenze asked.

“…a brand, you know, the ones the Ministry use,” Atlas continued and realisation seemed to dawn upon Firenze’s face, the half-man trotting over to a mound of iridescent moss behind him. He scrapped a sizeable amount into a pouch.

“Bane has been scarred by many of those in this life, it is the reason for his distrust of humans,” Firenze told, returning to Atlas a moment later. He held out the bag. “It is why I do not hate him for his treatment of me. Sometimes, good souls do terrible things and though we should not dismiss the outcome we should also look to the reason. Don’t you think, Atlas Magianima?”

“In some cases,” Atlas agreed quietly, taking the offering, “but sometimes people are simply cruel without a reason.”

“That is correct,” Firenze nodded and backed away, “you’d best get going, Atlas Magianima.”

“Right…thank you for this, Firenze,” Atlas smiled, shoving it in her pocket as she backed away to the door. 

Firenze’s next class was already waiting outside, a group of bright-eyed first years buzzing about their first Divination lesson of the summer term. Atlas smiled idly, shaking her head as she hurried off to Defense Against the Dark Arts, determined to not find herself late and subsequently in detention.

For some reason, however, when Atlas arrived, Umbridge didn’t bat a lash. The change struck Atlas as very odd and honestly, it worried her, so when she took her usual seat beside Hermione she went to ask only to find the girl all kinds of pissed, scribbling notes within her book so furiously fast Atlas was sure the paper had ripped all the way to the final page. She reached over beneath the table, poking the girl’s leg and when she didn’t get any sort of reaction she whispered over to her, squeezing her knee.

“Hermione…Hermione, you’re ruining your book,” she said, frowning. “Hermione?”

“What?” She sounded very angry.

“Are you all right?”

“No. Harry’s going to do something stupid,” Hermione hissed, repairing the pages of her book and erasing all the words she had written. That had seemed to be an accident, however, as she quickly grew from furious to enraged. “Oh for fuck –“

“You don’t need notes for this class, Mi.”

“But it had all of my Charms –“

“You can use mine,” Atlas eased and Hermione seemed to relax. Atlas did, after all, take care in writing her notes. “Now, are you going to tell me what Harry did?”

“It’s not what he did, it’s what he’s going to do,” Hermione sighed, glancing up and over at Umbridge who seemed to be incredibly frazzled, so much so, she looked the spitting image of an electrified chicken. “He’s going to break into Umbridge’s office to talk to Sirius.”

“…why?” Atlas said after a moment of mouthing words soundlessly, face incredibly pale. As blank as Hermione’s notepad.

“He won’t say but I just know it has something to do with why he’s missing his Occlumency classes with Snape,” Hermione whispered, Atlas looked over at Harry, the boy staring off into space.

“How long has he been planning this?”

“I don’t know about planning but apparently he’s been thinking of it since Easter,” Hermione snapped, hiding her face in her book when Umbridge finally glanced over.

“And I wasn’t informed because…?” Atlas asked, doing the same. She could feel Umbridge’s eyes boring into the top of her skull.

“It slipped my mind,” Hermione said through gritted teeth. “Anyway, the Twins are setting up some sort of diversion.”

“Like the fireworks?” Atlas asked.

“Worse.”

As soon as the bell rang Harry bolted from the class, Hermione going after him, leaving Atlas and Ron to glance over at each other, stricken as the two of them slowly put away their belongings as well as their desk mates. They met outside and noticed the one-sided conversation before them, Hermione begging Harry to think better of his plans while Harry busily looked through the throngs of people, seemingly waiting for something.

Screams and cries echoed from somewhere above them and Atlas glanced up for a split second, only to find Harry gone when she looked back down. She startled, reaching out for Hermione who – upon seeing the same – donned a look of anguish.

“We can try and stop him?” Atlas suggested but Hermione shook her head.

“There’s no point, come on,” she said, grabbing her hand. Atlas startled and quickly pulled Ron along also, the three of them following the crowd up to the east wing above. There, Atlas had to grab Hermione’s jumper to hold her back from walking straight into a murky swamp, sludge spreading closer and closer, further and further throughout the hall.

It smelt absolutely vile, with evilness to it that made Atlas’s stomach double over. Ron covered his nose and sunk back into the crowd while Hermione grimaced, turning away from the scene, Atlas was too dazed to move, smacked across the face so viciously by the smell she had become stiff, suddenly dizzy. Whatever the Twins had done, it was sure to leave some sort of mark on the school, perhaps in the form of permanent noxious gas, specifically tied to this one corridor. Atlas was sure it’d leave a mark on her, she could already feel the senses of her nose corroding away.

A small and pink form was suddenly pushing her way through the students and Atlas gladly gave way when she notice the woman was walking towards a suspiciously large lump of something floating within the bog. She took the woman’s cry of horror as her cue to leave and grabbed her two stunted friends, pulling them away from the scene. Everyone else seemed to not get the memo, eager to see Umbridge covered in whatever it was that smeared the castle floors and that meant Atlas was pushing against a current, still injured and aching but Merlin she did not want to be around the stench and she didn’t want to just leave Hermione and Ron either.

“Where did Fred and George get so much Stinksap?” Hermione asked once they had gotten to a far enough corner of the school, Atlas turned to her, rubbing at her nose with a grimace.

“That’s what it was? Jesus Christ…” she muttered and Hermione could not help the flash of amusement upon her face.

“Doesn’t matter, they’re legends,” Ron breathed, beaming. “That’ll keep Umbridge busy enough, Harry won’t get caught now.”

“Still, he should be careful,” Hermione frowned, crossing her arms while Atlas desperately smeared the tiny droplet of Stinksap that had gotten on her shoe against a windowsill. “Fred and George do realise they won’t get away with it this time, right?”

“I have a feeling that’s what they’re aiming for, Mi,” Atlas muttered, flicking her foot around a final time before joining the conversation once more. “They were muttering something about outgrowing full-time education over the holidays.”

“You’re mum’s not going to let that slide, is she?” Hermione asked, looking at Ron but the boy merely shrugged.

“Maybe not…but, think about it, mum hates the Ministry right now, especially Umbridge, she might scold them but in the end, she’ll give them a pat on the back for their efforts,” Ron told and Hermione nodded, sighing after a moment.

“I have to hand it to them, they’re quite brilliant,” Hermione mused.

“Thought you weren’t into troublemakers,” Atlas commented, smiling crookedly. Hermione hit her lightly in the stomach and rolled her eyes.

“And I thought you knew me, Atty,” Hermione huffed, Atlas rubbed at the offended area and furrowed her brows, “in all seriousness, I’ve really got to know how they’ve afforded all of this. I mean, where has all the money come from?”

“Maybe they’re stealing things and selling them like Mundungus, that’s what mum thought,” Ron said and Atlas smiled awkwardly, moving to speak. Only another large bang interrupted them in the distance and the three exchanged quick brief looks before going after it, meeting up with the rest of a crowd halfway there.

Students stood up against the Entrance Hall walls, looking on at the scene playing out before them. And Atlas realised, much to her dismay, that a few of the students were covered in the apparent Stinksap Fred and George had exploded upon that one unfortunate hall and resolved to stay very far away from those poor wretched souls. Lest her nostrils partake in another battle against the stench. Merlin, she was at the very opposite side of the hall and she could still smell them.

“So!” Ah, Atlas hadn’t even noticed her presence but it seemed the pink toad had found her prey, a pair of flies, Fred and George, trapped with nowhere to run. “So — you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?”

“Pretty amusing, yeah,” Fred smiled, looking up at her without the slightest hint of fear. A few laughed openly at his brazen attitude while others tried to stifle their grins. Especially with the Inquisitorial Squad mingling amongst them.

A figure elbowed into her side and Atlas stumbled, scowling at the back of Filch’s head as the man practically skipped over to Umbridge’s side.

“Are you ok?” Hermione asked and Atlas nodded.

“Yeah…yeah, I’m fine,” she assured, looking over the crowd again.

“I’ve got the form, Headmistress,” his voice was hoarse and wheezy, practically shaking with his excitement. “I’ve got the form and I’ve got the whips waiting…oh, let me do it now –“

“Very good, Argus,” Umbridge said, smiling wide. “You two,” she gazed upon Fred and George who were still grinning and staring up at her in absolute defiance. “are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school.”

“Whips? Is she bloody mental?” Ron cried, his voice a shrill whisper.

“Haven’t we already established that?” A new voice joined them. It was Ginny and she had pushed her way through the crowd to meet them. “Ugly old bat. Merlin, put me in a room with her and I’d come out alone.”

“Don’t doubt it, Ginny,” Atlas muttered, though she continued to watch the Twins, concern upon her face. Her back ached with the thought of being whipped as if the mere mention sent bolts of new fire upon her skin.

“You know what?” Fred said, turning to his twin, “I don’t think we are. George, I’ve always thought our futures lay outside the world of academic achievements.”

“Fred, I’ve been thinking exactly the same thing,” George grinned.

“Time to test our talents in the real world, d’you reckon?” Fred asked.

“Definitely,” George nodded.

And before Umbridge could say a word, they raised their wands and shouted together:

“Accio brooms!”

There was a loud crash somewhere in the distance and Atlas turned to watch as two broomsticks came flying into the Entrance Hall, one laden with a heavy chain and an iron peg; they turned left, veering along the wall before stopping instantly at their owner’s feet. 

“We won’t be seeing you,” Fred hummed, mounting his broomstick.

“Yeah, don’t bother to keep in touch,” George said, swinging his leg over his own.

“If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley — Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes,” Fred then said in a loud voice, looking over the assembled students, a silent awed crowd. “Our new premises!”

“Special discounts to Hogwart’s students who swear they’re going to use our products to get rid of this old bat,” George grinned, pointing at Umbridge. He sent a small little firework at the woman and the lady’s eyes lit up with a dawning rage.

“Stop them!” Umbridge shrieked but before her squad could peel from the crowd, Fred and George had already kicked off from the floor and floated a good fifteen feet into the air, the peg on George’s swinging low so that a few students had to duck. But it did not wipe the amused grins from those pupils’ faces.

Fred looked over at Peeves who had meandered into the hall, lured by the chaos.

“Give her hell for us, Peeves.”

And Peeves — Peeves the Poltergeist who was a nuisance and a pest to all bowed. He bowed and took off his belled cap, saluting as Fred and George darted off and out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset, monumental applause following them. 

Atlas cheered, unable to withhold her grin as she clapped also, watching the twins disappear off into the distance. She only stopped when Hermione pulled her arm down and dragged her out of the Entrance Hall, back into the main castle where the corridors were deserted. Ron hadn’t followed, so taken by his brothers’ actions he didn’t even seem to notice their absence.

“Hermione? What’s wrong?”

“The crowd’s going to disperse soon, you don’t want to be caught in it with your injury, do you?” Hermione asked.

“Oh…no, I don’t,” Atlas muttered and pulled away, pointing in the opposite direction, “on that note, I actually need to change my dressings.”

“Are you going to see Poppy then?”

“No — er — Poppy doesn’t know,” Atlas frowned, “Winky changes it for me.”

“Winky? You go to the kitchens?” Hermione asked incredulously and Atlas nodded. A look of conflict fell across her face, one that teetered the edge of annoyance and concern — care. “I’m coming with you.”

“Why?” Atlas asked and Hermione rolled her eyes, tilting her head to the side and giving the girl across from her a pointed look, “all right, ok, fine…didn’t you want to see Harry, though? Chew him out for putting himself in danger?”

“I can do that when we get back,” Hermione reasoned, already walking away. Atlas cast a brief look back towards the entrance hall before stumbling after her, eager to subdue the growing wetness upon her back that was slowly rendering the adhesive useless and soggy. She grimaced and rolled her shoulders, falling into step with Hermione.

Everybody they passed was hurrying the opposite way, all keen to see the aftermath of Fred and George’s great escape, they didn’t give neither Hermione nor Atlas a second glance when they both disappeared behind a painting. A passageway unknown to most of the student body. The elves couldn’t very well have the entire school venturing there for morning and afternoon snacks after all.

Inside Atlas found Winky and handed her the moss Firenze had given her earlier that day, instructing her on how she supposed it was supposed to be applied before settling on a bench, her front to Hermione so that the girl would not see the wound.

“So…” Atlas murmured as she took off her shirt and hugged it to her front, sparing her dignity when the bandages fell from around her chest. Hermione looked over at her from her bag, apparently caught in the middle of giving Dobby a newly knitted hat. “Why did you want to come?”

“Did I need a reason?” Hermione asked, dropping her bag behind her and smiling when Dobby happily skipped away, three hats stacked precariously atop his head.

“No, I suppose not,” Atlas shrugged, grimacing when her burn bumped into Winky’s careful hand. The elf rushed her apologies but Atlas waved them off with a smile, looking into her lap as she winced, the moss sticking to the wound. She hoped it would work, she trusted Firenze to some extent, even if he hadn’t made any effort to console her when she’d gone through with the Animagus ritual, he had been a dear friend once upon a time. 

“That was really something, out there.”

“Yeah, can’t believe we won’t be seeing Fred and George’s ugly mugs walking the corridors anymore,” Atlas grinned, tossing a glance over her shoulder to see how far along Winky was before turning back to Hermione finding the girl unimpressed. “What?”

“You gave them your winnings didn’t you?” Hermione pressed and Atlas huffed, chuckling somewhat nervously.

“No…why would you even –?” Hermione frowned, “…it wasn’t just me…Harry did too,” Atlas muttered, looking off to the side. 

“Christ…” Hermione sighed, shaking her head.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Atlas whined, groaning as she threw one hand up in the air, “I mean, I didn’t want the money and Molly wouldn’t take it, what was I supposed to do? Toss it away? No! I invested it in a shop that’ll be very successful.”

“You do realise you’ll get all that money back and then some, right?” Hermione said and Atlas furrowed her brows.

“What?”

“You invested in a business, Atlas. If it gets big you get some of the profit,” Hermione explained and Atlas made a face. “The twins will pay you back somehow, that’s just how they are.”

“But that — that complete defeats the point of why I gave them the money,” Atlas muttered, hissing through her teeth and whimpering slightly when Winky dressed her burn with a new patch. “You — you done, Wink?”

“All done, kind miss,” Winky nodded and Atlas stood, her shirt still pressed against her front as she grabbed a bandage and faced away to wind it around herself, dropping her shirt to the floor. Behind her, Hermione grabbed her bag and stood, Atlas could feel her eyes upon her however and felt heat spread to her cheeks, she was, after all, half-naked in a very vulnerable position.

She tucked the ending so that it would not unwind and turned, catching the moment Hermione averted her gaze.

“Perving, Mi?” Atlas teased, tugging on her shirt and buttoning it up, Hermione scoffed and smoothed down her collar, pulling out Atlas’s tie from thin air to wrap it around her neck.

“Tuck in your shirt and no, I was not perving, I was observing,” Hermione replied, her words curt and snappy. She rode the knot up tight against her neck and Atlas winced, reaching up to loosen it but Hermione stopped her and slapped away her hand. “You’ll make it look messy.”

“It’s choking me,” Atlas retorted but obeyed, tucking in her shirt instead. 

“Do you need any medication before we leave?” Hermione asked and Atlas quirked a brow, “incase it hurts, Atty.”

“Oh! No, I’m tough,” Atlas assured.

“I know you are but it really wouldn’t hurt to take something.”

“Honestly, I’m good,” Atlas smiled, waving her goodbyes before approaching the portrait door and pushing through. On the other side, the corridor lay empty, most still lingering around the Entrance Hall area.

“Well…if it starts to hurt, let me know. I have a few pain nulling potions stored away,” Hermione commented, following close beside her.

“You do? Why would you need those?” Atlas huffed and Hermione looked at her incredulously.

“Why do you think?”

Atlas smiled sheepishly. “Oh right.”

Harry wasn’t in the Common area when they arrived so Atlas and Hermione ventured up to the boy’s dormitories, ignoring some indignant paintings they made the mistake of passing who openly berated them for wandering around. It drew a few eyes but the girls ignored them, Atlas laughing at the mere suggestion they were up to anything heinous with any boy while Hermione shook her head, grimacing as they knocked and pushed into Harry’s dorm.

They found him in the middle of some conversation with Ron, the boy engrossed in whatever Harry had to say about his latest excursion, but it all came to an abrupt halt when Harry saw the unimpressed look on Hermione’s face, the girl’s arms crossed and glare deadly. Atlas waved at him over her shoulder, smiling sympathetically.

“I hope it was worth it,” Hermione said, voice hard.

“I didn’t get caught,” Harry immediately retorted, crossing his arms.

“Yeah but you could have,” Hermione said, uncrossing her arms as she rolled her eyes and sat at the foot of his bed, “are you going to tell us what it was all about?”

“…I saw something during one of my Occlumency lessons with Snape,” Harry began, glancing quickly at Atlas before turning back to his lap, fiddling with his fingers, “Malfoy had asked him about something so he left and — and I saw a Pensieve so…naturally I decided to have a nose,” he shrugged lamely as Hermione sighed, exasperated, “I saw his memories and in them…well, my dad was bullying him, Sirius as well just because they were bored while Amaya and Lupin did nothing, Peter was just snickering. So — so I needed to ask them, you know? Ask them why.”

“I could have told you why,” Atlas said, sitting down beside Hermione with a frown, “Snape was a git, a dark arts fanatic, he was racist and just horrible, they didn’t do it without reason,” she mused, sighing a moment later, “I mean…wouldn’t you hex Draco and his lot a few times if you knew you could get away with it?”

“Well, yeah…” Harry nodded, “and I talked to Remus and Sirius about it just now…”

“But?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it, I…never thought I’d feel sorry for Snape,” Harry murmured and Atlas soured.

“Well don’t.”

“Atlas,” Hermione said, her tone sort of warning but her eyes understanding.

“What? Am I not allowed to hate Snape?” Atlas huffed, crossing her arms, she sighed a second later and turned to Harry, “look, if you want to feel sorry for him, go ahead, you’re a better person than me. I’m just saying, Snape picked at my mum whenever he could, she might’ve been the year above him but he was still vile so James and my dad probably did all that shit as payback.”

“Snape bullied Amaya Magianima?” Ron baulked, wide-eyed as if the suggestion was something straight from the imagination of a lunatic.

Atlas nodded, “I thought I’d mentioned it. Remember when Snape called me Spattergroit in the third year?”

“Yeah…those paintings did the same, pointed out our freckles,” Ron nodded, “so Snape made fun of her freckles?”

“No…I mean, my mum did have freckles, it’s where I get them from but…it was more to do with the implications. Spattergroit is a disease, it’s infectious and spreads like fire on hay,” Atlas explained before continuing with a small scowl, “it’s also infamous for attacking your uvula…which leaves a person unable to speak — my mum didn’t speak English when she came here, she learnt to write it first and understood it quite quickly but speaking it was something else, hence why she has so many journals and…Snape thought that was funny I suppose, the fact she couldn’t speak.”

“I didn’t know that,” Harry said, frowning.

“I don’t think many people do, it’s not really important when people write stories about her, I guess,” Atlas mused and then shook her head, “anyway, it’s a snide name, people probably just thought he was making fun of her freckles but they both knew it was more than that. Though he didn’t just bully her, Harry, he bullied loads of others, dad and James were just the only ones who fought back. So don’t worry about feeling bad, if anyone deserved it, it would be him. After all, he’s still a bully now, just look at Neville.”

“Yeah…yeah, you’re right,” Harry nodded, still looking into his hands, “well…at least now I don’t have to do Occlumency now.”

“Wait, is that the reason you don’t go anymore?” Hermione said, tearing her eyes from Atlas and turning to the boy, “are you too embarrassed or something? Scared? Oh Harry he won’t do anything, you need –“

“Oh no, he told me not to come back, said he’d never teach me Occlumency again,” Harry said, slowly grinning.

“Harry…that’s bad, that’s really really bad,” Atlas said, grabbing his shoulder, “look, I hate Snape…I really do, I wish I could go back to just seeing him indifferently and I know you feel the same but this is dangerous.”

“I know, I know but–“

“No buts Harry, if you can’t close your mind to him, Voldemort could turn your own mind against you,” Hermione interjected.

“They’re right, Harry,” Ron added quietly.

“I know!” Harry yelled this time, glaring at the three of them, “I’ve got it…I’ve told you already, I’m fine.”

“So you haven’t had a dream?” Atlas asked, looking concerned.

“No…no, I haven’t. So please…” he made a gesture with his hands and the three of them backed away from him, all still frowning. “Now…I need to sleep and by the looks of it, you do too.”

“Rude,” Atlas huffed, standing with a quiet groan as her back ached, “you will tell us if you have a dream won’t you?”

“Yeah…yeah of course.”

“Good,” Atlas turned to Hermione, “come on then you…let’s leave the boys to their beauty sleep. Merlin knows they need it.”

“I’m watching you, harry,” Hermione said, sending the boy a pointed look before glancing over at Ron, “You. Tell me if he has a bad dream.”

Ron nodded quickly, shrugging when Harry stared at him, open-mouthed.