Chapter 14

It was the day of the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff and Atlas was sat in the Great Hall, a bowl of porridge steaming in front of her. She ate it in silence, being the only one up at the unholy hour Crookshanks had woken her at. The cat had been urging her in the direction of the boys’ dormitories throughout the entirety of that incredibly early morning. She hadn’t gone, obviously and had instead resolved herself to get breakfast. She may trust the little bugger but she wasn’t about to storm into Harry’s room at the crack of dawn to see what the cat had been yowling about.

This led to her staring oddly at a wall across from her, hand mechanically bringing up spoonfuls of thick porridge to her mouth, she hated it when it was too thin, ended up more like soup and she didn’t very much like soup. Stew was more her thing.

A sudden form dropped down beside her and she startled, turning abruptly to Harry who looked a lot like she did, dazed, tired but too excited or jittery to go back to bed. He turned to her and she mutely ladled him his own bowl of porridge earning a thankful nod in return. “Crookshanks…you?”

“Peeves,” Harry grumbled quietly.

“Don’t know why they never banished him,” Atlas sighed, finishing off her porridge and grabbing a few pieces of toast to lather in strawberry jam.

“Hmm,” Harry nodded slowly, “Crookshanks woke you? He was at my door when I opened it…I’m starting to think Ron was right, he really might have something against Scabbers.”

“Well…he does smell,” Atlas grinned, though it was tired and looked a little worn, “honestly…” she turned back to her food and took a bite, “does Ron wash him?”

“You know…I don’t actually know,” Harry mused, spooning another mouthful of porridge for himself. “I think he ought to if Crookshanks is really after him because he stinks.”

“Yeah, then he won’t yell at Hermione all of the time,” Atlas nodded and looked up again when the entrance opened, the rest of the Gryffindor team pooling inside. “Team’s here.”

“Atlas, do you like Hermione?”

“Yeah? Course I do she’s my friend,” Atlas answered, waving the team over.

“No I meant…do you have a crush on her?”

“Oh…uh, no I don’t,” Atlas said, looking to him with furrowed brows, “Why?”

“I just thought…you know. I just thought you did because well…you make playful comments, and you like girls and Hermione is very beautiful,” Harry tried, his own eyebrows furrowed as if Atlas was the one not making sense.

“Well…she’s nice to be around and anyone would be lucky to have her,” Atlas shrugged, “but just because I like girls doesn’t mean I have a crush on every girl I befriend, though, I do agree, she is very beautiful.”

“Who’s beautiful?” Fred asked, sitting on Atlas’s left, George doing the same on Harry’s right so they were sandwiched together.

“Is it us?” George grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

“It’s obviously us,” Angelina smirked, sitting opposite them, Katie right beside her, “Right, Potter? Black? We’re the true beauties of Gryffindor.”

“Oh definitely,” George winked and Katie laughed, pushing at Angelina’s shoulder as the girl blushed. “So who are we talking about?”

A gasp and grin came from Fred who leaned to look at Atlas as she busied herself with another piece of toast, “Does our Atlas have a crush on somebody?”

“Who’s the lucky lad?” Katie grinned, inching forward.

“More like lad-y,” George corrected and everyone looked at him, “It’s obvious, who calls a lad beautiful?”

“Cedric Diggory’s beautiful,” Angelina sighed wistfully and George scowled.

“More like gorgeous,” Katie giggled. A hunched over figure joined them, looking downtrodden and already defeated before the match had begun. “You alright, Oliver?”

“It’s going to be a tough one…” He mumbled and Atlas pushed him a plate, noticing he hadn’t touched any of the food available. Having a starving Keeper and Captain wouldn’t do them any good after all and she just knew if they lost Wood would end up taking the blame for not keeping his energy up. “Thanks, Atlas.”

“Stop worrying, Oliver,” Fred said cheerily, patting his shoulder, “We don’t mind a bit of rain.”

A bit of rain would have been the better outcome but no, as Atlas strapped on her reinforced Quidditch uniform and wrapped her hands in bandages, her eyes drifted out of their tent, watching the nightmare that was Scottish weather in all its glory. It was a torrent in a word and just had to be during Atlas’s first official Quidditch match, she was lucky she was of a heavier weight class, the extra muscle mass and height doing her good as she would surely be blown of course without it.

Umbrella wielding spectators littered the stands and Atlas could barely make out the quadrant saved for Gryffindor house let alone the figures of Ron and Hermione, so she didn’t try. Even the hoops were only just visible, outlined against the stormy grey clouds backing them. How she would compete in the conditions she didn’t entirely know but she would try.

The match was important to Oliver, after all, and she had steadily grown to like the older boy, so if winning this match meant something to him she would sooner quit than not give it her best shot.

Atlas pulled her scarlet robe over her shoulders and turned to Oliver, placing her goggles over her eyes so she’d at least be able to see without having to squint her way through the rain. Unfortunately, it looked like she was the only one to have a pair enchanted and sighed, knowing she was likely going to be the one in charge of making most of the goals.

The tent was in silence as they stared at Oliver, waiting for a pre-match pep talk but it didn’t come. The boy seemed too overwhelmed in honesty, as if on the brink of a nervous breakdown, so Atlas spoke instead, “Let’s do our best, the odds are against us, sure but they’re against Hufflepuff too.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “They had as much time to practise against us as we did them and it’s not like we’re in different weather conditions as they are.”

“We’ve also got two of the best brooms on our team,” Katie pointed out. “That counts for something.”

“Yeah but if that all falls through–” Fred began, looking to George with a brow cocked in expectancy.

“I’m sure Atlas can convince her boyfriend to go easy on us,” George finished with a cheeky grin. Atlas grimaced, her face scrunching up in all forms of disgust.

“Me and Cedric? You’re having a laugh.”

“Who said we were talking about Cedric?” Fred smirked, wiggling his brows suggestively.

“It was pretty obvious who you were implying considering he’s the only person in Hufflepuff I talk to,” Atlas deadpanned, looking unamused.

“Boo,” Fred whined.

“You’re really no fun,” George sighed. 

“Nevermind that, all that needs to be said is good luck team,” Angelina interjected, placing her fist in the middle. Atlas clocked on and joined her, Harry, Fred, George and Katie doing the same, all of them turning to Oliver expectantly. 

“What could go wrong, Oliver?” George grinned. 

“Don’t jinx us you daft git,” Katie hissed.

“Ah, knock on wood,” George rushed and the entire team retracted their fists from the middle and instead knocked a few times on a still pale Oliver. 

“That was stupid…” Atlas grimaced and Harry nodded in agreement, though smiling still at the stupidity of their team. With a tiny smile, Oliver beckoned them to follow him out of the tent, the window blowing Atlas sideways as soon as she stepped outside.

She couldn’t hear anything over the thunder that drummed overhead, even her own heartbeat, which has been banging against her chest that entire morning, was null to her ears. It was pure chaos and she was soaked in seconds, the rain wasting no time and drenching them so they were all sopping wet. How Harry was going to see the Snitch in this, she didn’t know and felt pity for the boy.

The opposing team approached from the opposite side and Cedric threw Atlas a wave through the rain, to which she responded with the same earning a grin from George who she promptly scowled at. Mud caked her boots as she stopped and waited for Madam Hooch’s signal, she almost missed it when the woman mouth for them to ‘Mount your brooms.’ The mud made it all the harder to actually do that and she found herself unintentionally flinging a clump of dirt over at Fred.

Luckily he didn’t seem to notice, leaving Atlas to grin to herself in private, shooting occasional glances to the mess which made a laugh bubble out of her throat. She almost missed the shrill and distant sound of Madam Hooch’s whistle which would have been bad but she didn’t, her ears were just as sensitive as her reflexes and pairing them together led to immediate take-offs.

She was the first to rise and took the Quaffle for the team, dodging and diving past bright canary yellow robes until she saw the faint red and number of Angelina’s cloak billowing behind her. The throw was fast, almost unnoticeable by the Hufflepuff Chasers. Almost. A Chaser Atlas recognised as Tamsin Applebee darted after Angelina when she successfully received the pass.

Atlas slicked back her hair and dived after them, the wind whipping furiously at her skin, the cold biting at her cheeks, she pulled up and levelled herself so she was flying just over the two feuding Chasers. “Up!” she shouted at the top of her lungs and – maybe as a gut reaction – Angelina listened, lobbing the Quaffle high up in the air.

Catching it as she flew by, Atlas straightened herself on her broom and darted for the hoops, throwing a fastball through the bottom goal. It soared straight through but Atlas didn’t dwell on it, letting out a misty cloud of air and pushing her hair back into a quick half-tail. She was lucky she kept a hairband on her wrist because the constant whisps of hair that stuck to her goggles were getting annoying.

It was the first goal of the day and after that, more were called as the time speeded by, some Hufflepuff – Tamsin Applebee and Heidi Macavoy being the main scorers – a majority Gryffindor after a few well-played throws from Atlas, a behind-the-back shot from Katie and incredible passes from Angelina who had been acting as an amazing decoy most of the match, scoring her own goals here or there.

Time flew by at an increasing rate, Atlas didn’t know how long she had been flying, just that she was soaked frozen and the wind no longer bit, but numbed her skin. She had no idea how many points they were up, just that they were leading and had not seen Harry throughout the entire game. A figure caught her eye in the stands so she turned and fully stared, eyes making out the form of a great big dog, sitting, watching and observing. It moved her, strangely so, but the dog’s appearance comforted her for reasons she didn’t know.

Just then a shout tickled at her ear and she turned just in time to raise her arm, blocking a Bludger from knocking her out cold.

Pain, like the lightning that struck around her, shot up her arm and it was only then, did she realise what arm she had raised to defend herself. The arm Buckbeak had torn into, leaving her with a nasty muscle laceration. It was thrumming heatedly and Atlas hugged the arm to herself, giving herself a few moments to calm it down.

“Atlas!” Katie’s voice rung out as she flew over to her, “Atlas, are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Atlas gritted, waving her off, “Go help Angelina, those Hufflepuff Chasers are certainly not the pushovers the twins made them out to be.”

“Tell me about it,” Katie huffed, running her hand through her hair. She gave Atlas one last look, eyebrows furrowed and turned back to the centre playing field, “Alright, I’ll go but don’t strain yourself, that Bludger was nasty.”

“Can say that again…” Atlas winced, bringing in a sharp breath through her teeth. Katie flew away and Atlas turned her head to the sky, the rain beating against her face for a time before she returned to the game, intercepting a pass Heidi Macavoy had made to Malcolm Preece – the Third Hufflepuff Chaser – much like she had done in her first training session with Angelina and Katie.

A faint cheering sounded in the distance, followed by what Atlas thought was the sound of Lee Jordan practically screaming at her return to the field. She paid it no mind and launched for the hoops, entering the striking area by her lonesome and quickly swapping throwing arms. Luckily the switch in hand did nothing to hinder her scoring chances and she brought back another ten points.

It was around twenty minutes later when Madam Hooch’s whistle blew and Atlas descended from the sky, boots sinking into the muddy field as she landed. Her arm continued to throb but she kept up a calm outward appearance, grimacing slightly when Fred landed clumsily beside her and nudged her accidentally.

Harry was down last, soaked and pale, his glasses and the goggles placed over them completely obscured, Atlas had to resist the urge to laugh at his dishevelled state.

“What’s the score?” He asked, breathless.

“We’re eighty points up,” Wood grinned.

“Yeah, thanks to Atlas,” Angelina smirked, patting the girls back, “Your call for the reverse pass was risky but I’m glad I trusted you.”

“The flick you did was amazing, give yourself some credit,” Atlas smiled, swiping her hair back. A few strands had come loose. “And that Sloth Grip and Roll you did Katie, I thought you’d actually fell.”

“Learnt that one from you in our first practice,” Katie laughed, nudging – thankfully – Atlas’s good arm.

“Yes, yes, you Chasers are doing beautifully,” Oliver agreed, “Fred, George, keep up with the blocking, almost had Atlas off of her broom.”

“Not our fault she was staring off into the stands,” George grumbled.

“Probably making lovey-dovey eyes at her crush,” Fred grinned.

“We need that Snitch Harry–” Oliver continued, brushing off the boys’ comments, “otherwise we’ll be playing into the night.”

“I’ve got no chance with these on,” Harry said exasperatedly, motioning to his goggles and glasses. He’d thought the goggles would help but they only made seeing worse.

At that moment, Hermione appeared just behind them, running – almost tripping – with her cloak hung over her head to protect her from the rain. “Harry!” She called out, stopping just in front of him and hanging onto Atlas who stared down at her quizzically, she was wearing her Quidditch jacket. “I’ve had an idea, Harry! Give me your glasses and goggles, quick!”

In a rush of bewilderment, Harry took them off and handed them to her, the entire team watching in amazement as Hermione pulled out her wand and tapped them, “Impervius! There,” she handed them back, “They’ll repel water!”

Atlas noticed Wood looking on the brink of bursting, eyes wide and hands trembling as if he had the urge to kiss her. At that, Atlas subtly stood in his way and crossed her arms loosely.

“Brilliant!” Oliver called, oblivious to Atlas’s movements, “Absolutely wonderful! Okay, team, let’s go for it!”

“Wait, Atlas,” Hermione called as the team came out from underneath the very large umbrella hung over them. Atlas stopped and motioned for the group to go on without her for a second, “Your arm, you were hit weren’t you?”

“It’s fine, Hermione, nothing severe.”

“It still hurts doesn’t it?”

A beat of silence, “Yes.”

“Come here,” Hermione smiled, pulling out her wand again, “I learnt this one from Madam Pomfrey…Dolorsana.”

A warmth, like a fire on a cold winters day, slithered up underneath Atlas’s arm guard and lathered itself over the pained area, sinking into her skin and releasing her from the scolding heat she had felt in her arm. She blinked once, then twice and finally grinned, flexing her fingers around.

“Ah, don’t strain it!” Hermione rushed, carefully bringing her arms up to pull her hand down, “It’s still there and you still need to see Madam Pomfrey, I only lessened the pain for now!”

“Atlas!” Katie called and Atlas turned to look at her, seeing her wildly gesturing for her to hurry up. She nodded in understanding and turned to wrap Hermione in a hug.

“Thanks…” she grinned, eyes clenched shut, “Jacket looks good on you, by the way,” and then she pulled away, casting a wave over her shoulder and rushing back to the middle so the match could start anew.

“I think I know who you were calling beautiful earlier,” Katie whispered over to her. Atlas rolled her eyes, cheeks dusting an unnoticeable red and mounted her broom, shooting off into the sky as the Quaffle was thrown again. It didn’t take long for her to be in possession of the ball and taking note of what Hermione had said she still didn’t use her right arm, throwing for a score through the highest hoop.

A clap of thunder sounded just as she did, followed by a rod of lightning in the distance. It was getting dangerous now, playing with lightning was not something they should do. She ducked beneath a Bludger and made for Malcolm Preece, punching the Quaffle out of his hold and catching it to fly back to the Hufflepuff hoops. Tamsin and Heidi moved to sandwich her in so she tossed it over to Katie who promptly scored another point.

A hundred points up, all they needed was another goal so even if Cedric snatched the Snitch they’d be drawn. Unfortunately, it didn’t play out that way, Malcolm ducked underneath one of George’s Bludgers and scored a point. They were only ninety up now and Atlas had lost complete sight of the Quaffle. It continued like that until they were drawn and Atlas was at a complete loss, she had not once caught sight of the bright red Quaffle and it seemed neither had Katie or Angelina.

Then she saw it, tucked beneath Tamsin Applebee’s canary yellow robe and it seemed Katie had too as she darted for the Hufflepuff, yanking it out of the girls grasp. Now that they knew what the Hufflepuff’s were doing, it was time to wrack up more points. With the Snitch being worth 100 points – 150 in professional Quidditch – they just needed to do what the Hufflepuffs had done. Steadily rise until they were in the lead.

“Atlas!” A voice practically screamed over the rain, she turned and caught the Quaffle tossed to her, sharply pulling at her broom and turning for the hoops. Only she froze, seeing a robe of scarlet falling from the sky, accompanied by a dozen Dementors chasing after his flailing body. Harry’s number pressed in gold against his back.

The Quaffle dropped from her arms and she hugged her body tight to her broom, willing for it to go faster until she made it, right-arm outstretched to grab onto Harry’s cold palm. The momentum of his fall almost pulled her off of her broom too and if not that, the pain she felt in holding the boy. She could practically feel her only-just healed muscle rip itself apart again in that second and cried out in agony.

It was just her luck a Bludger came zooming towards her, smashing into her nose, earning a sickly crack from her face. She gritted through it, tears streaming down her face from where the blow had knocked her goggles off and tried her damndest to pull herself back onto her broom, Harry still in her hold.

“Dementors!” Someone cried out and Atlas looked up, letting out a guttural moan. She really had some bad luck, her first Quidditch match doomed to be her last. They descended down onto her and a feeling like ice stabbed through her heart. 

Images of blood, claws, bright white eyes, sounds of screams, crying and explosions wracked her mind but she pulled through, yanking her head away from the Dementor’s own. There was nothing she could do but fall, so she did, looking over to the teachers stand, directly at Dumbledore as she let her fingers slip from around her broom.

“Aresto Momentum!” Echoed through her ears as she felt her body go suddenly light, the adrenaline of it all reaching its peak and then, when it subsided, she realised how stupid her decision to save the boy had been. Dumbledore would have saved him anyway so why? It had been in the heat of the moment, that was why and in that instant all Atlas had seen was her friend falling to his death. Not her friend being caught by one of Dumbledore’s charms.

The soft wet earth collided with her back and she opened her eyes, gasping for air and spitting out bits of her own blood, her nose was broken, her arm was burning white-hot pain and Harry was motionless beside her, their hands still connected. She let go and pushed herself to her knees so she hung over him, right arm hugged to her chest and the other one pushing the boy around to stir him. “Harry?”

He didn’t wake, face pale and eyes still firmly closed. He was alive, Atlas could tell by the way his chest slowly rose and set but he was knocked out cold and would not be waking up. She stumbled to her feet and looked over at an approaching figure with squinted eyes. It was Dumbledore and he looked furious, his wand raising to the sky.

“Expecto Patronum!“