Chapter 110

The sacking of Sybil Trelawney was, surprisingly, not a hot topic, instead, all anyone could talk about was Firenze and his arrival. It was breakfast time, two days after his new appointment as their Divination professor and Atlas walked the halls, heading for the Great Hall, she caught snippets of conversation about the Centaur and much to Atlas’s delight, most were talking about Umbridge, the look on the woman’s face when she had seen him. Not that she could blame them, she kept replaying the moment in her head —  had Umbridge’s look of utter despair hung up in the back of her mind.

Honestly, her mood could only be improved further if Hermione stopped glaring at her nose at every interval she could. It had been healed, the very next day in fact but it seemed to look permanently broken to Hermione who looked as if she might be trying to scold the nose for even breaking in the first place. Atlas idly hoped Hermione never came across any of the other Centaurs, for she was sure a civil war would break out and they needed no more of that.

She turned into the Great Hall and ducked when Fred tried to place one of those hats that made a person’s head disappear atop her head, turning briefly to shoot him a look before continuing forward. She slid beside Hermione, nudging her in greeting but the girl merely shot her nose a very pointed look and turned back to her newspaper. Atlas couldn’t help how she reached up to stroke the previously broken bridge, just to check if it was truly healed. When she confirmed her face wasn’t still ruined, she greeted Harry and Ron.

“So, Hermione, I’ll bet you wish you hadn’t given up Divination now, don’t you?” Lavender asked, a few seats away from them and Atlas sent Parvati a small wave the girl sent one back in return but gestured to Lavender a moment later, with a sad shrug. Ah, so it seemed Lavender had developed a little crush on their new professor. Poor Parvati.

“Not really,” Hermione said indifferently and Atlas let out an internal sigh of relief. “I’ve never really liked horses.”

Atlas snorted into her apple juice, coughing very violently through her sudden burst of laughter. Hermione looked at the girl out of the corner of her eye, smiling slightly, satisfied in a way before going back to her neutral expression before Atlas could see.

“He’s not a horse, he’s a Centaur!” Lavender cried indignantly.

“Lav says he’s a gorgeous Centaur,” Parvati muttered.

“Either way, he’s still got four legs,” Hermione said coolly and Atlas coughed again, steadily going red-faced.

“So, having four legs is a deal-breaker then?” Harry asked, grinning as he shot Atlas a discrete look.

“Don’t we all just have four legs? We just choose to identify two of them as arms,” Ron said, pointing his fork between each of the group, Hermione actually put down her paper, looking over at Ron with her mouth agape while Atlas gave up on drinking, resolving to just choke.

“He has a point,” Parvati muttered, “I really can’t believe I said that but he does.”

Ron nodded, pointing his fork solely at her, “we just call arms something different because they end in hands but if you look at a Hippogriff, their back legs end in hooves but their front ones end in talons, right? Ones they can grab stuff with? So Hippogriffs have hands too but nobody says they have arms.”

“Ron, mate, go back to bed,” Atlas said, still red in the face as she pointed to the door.

“Ron’s delirium aside, I thought you were all upset that Trelawney had gone, Lavender?” Hermione asked after shaking her head and returning to her paper.

“We are! Parvati is too,” Lavender rushed to say. “We went up to her office to see her; we took her some daffodils — not the honking ones that Sprout’s got, nice ones.”

“How is she?” Harry asked.

“Not very good, poor thing,” Lavender said sympathetically, she even seemed to sniffle. “She was crying and saying she’d rather leave the castle forever than stay here where Umbridge is, and I don’t blame her, Umbridge was horrible to her, wasn’t she?”

“She can be worse,” Atlas said, bringing a spoonful of porridge to her mouth, she swallowed it and turned to look over at Lavender, very serious, “much worse. Trelawney got it bad but…she could have got it worse.”

“Worse? How could she have been worse, she practically tossed Trelawney aside,” Lavender said, looking defensive as if Atlas was making her favourite teacher’s humiliating sacking out to be some mere slap on the wrist.

“She just can,” Atlas said very harshly, brows narrowing, they immediately soften as she quickly glanced around and went back to her food. “What happened was horrible, I’m not trying to belittle that, I’m just saying she can be a lot worse.”

After breakfast the six rose to leave for lessons, Parvati and Lavender at the front leading the way while Ron and Harry were in the middle, Atlas and Hermione at the back remaining in silence until they reached the corridor in which Hermione would peel away for her Arithmancy class. Every now and again Atlas would go to strike up a conversation, only to halt and remain in silence, chewing over her thoughts, all the while Hermione kept her nose in her book, so it was a surprise when she spoke first.

“Do you think Umbridge saw you? Helping Dumbledore, I mean,” Hermione asked, her eyes fixated on her book but Atlas noticed how she did not turn a page.

“No…we parted ways early so she wouldn’t,” Atlas assured and Hermione nodded slowly after a moment.

“You need to look after your face, you know,” Hermione murmured a moment later. They had come to a stop, standing in the corridor where they would part. Parvati, Lavender, Harry and Ron continued on their way, unaware Atlas had stopped to chat.

“Why’s that?” Atlas huffed.

“It’s your best feature,” Hermione shrugged, hugging her book to her chest.

“I think I look good with a broken nose,” Atlas declared and Hermione frowned, clearly annoyed. “Or not.”

“Go to class Atlas,” she sighed and turned to leave but Atlas reached out for her, carefully taking her hand.

“Hey wait…you know I had no choice, right?” Atlas asked, frowning. “Firenze is my friend, I couldn’t watch him get hurt.”

“I know,” Hermione said, keeping her hand in Atlas’s a moment before pulling away, “I need to get to class, Atlas.”

“Right, ok,” Atlas nodded and Hermione walked away, without sparing a glance backwards she disappeared down the hall and out of sight. The bell rang overhead and Atlas blinked from her daze, hurrying to catch up to the rest of her class.

Classroom eleven was her destination, a once deserted room used for Filtch’s cleaning supplies but she knew it was more than that now, so when she walked inside, the floor changing to that of mossy stones and grass, she was only shortly stunned, looking around the forest clearing she had found herself within. Every inch looked to be reclaimed by mother earth, trees sprouting from the floor, its leaves falling over the windows on the far wall so that the light of the room seemed greener. It reminded Atlas of the deeper parts of Centaur territory, where it was magical and no longer din and foggy like the outskirts. And considering who now inhabited this part of the castle, Atlas thought it fitting.

“Atlas Magianima, it is good to see you again,” Firenze greeted as she walked inside, holding a hand out for her to take, she did, nodding as well, only to pull it away rather sharply when the Centaur turned her hand over in his, eyes falling upon the words there. Of course, she had neglected to wear her glove today.

“Morning, Firenze,” Atlas said quickly and walked over to Harry and Ron, sitting against the rock they’d chosen. When she was settled she rummaged through her bag and found the accessory, pulling it on so that it seemed a mere duelling glove. It had become a regular part of her morning routine, so it was strange she had neglected to wear it.

The lesson began but Atlas became quickly distracted by the stars above, Firenze’s voice lulling her almost to sleep but she was startled awake when someone would ask an eager question and the cycle would renew. She vaguely registered most of what the Centaur said, teaching them of the stars and how they would read them, the differences between the traditions of himself and humans when it came to Divination, even assuring those students looking into the spiral fumes of the sage and mallowsweet they burned that it was to be expected if they could not discern anything.

“He’s not very definite on anything, is he?” Ron said in a low voice, as Atlas put out their mallowsweet fire. “I mean, I could do with a few more details about this war we’re about to have, couldn’t you?”

“Firenze has always been like that,” Atlas said back and watched as Harry, Ron and everybody really, jumped when the bell rang just outside the classroom door, they had no doubt forgotten they were not indeed in the Forbidden Forest. The class began to thin, each student looking just as lost and perplexed as the last.

“Atlas Magianima, a word, please,” Firenze called and both Harry and Ron stopped with her, the three just outside the doorway. “You two may stay, but please close the door.”

Ron was the one to obey, closing the door shut.

“Atlas Magianima, as I understand it you and Hagrid are still close, are you not?” Firenze asked and Atlas nodded, confused. “Very well, give him a warning from me. His attempt is not working. He would do better to abandon it. I would do so myself but as you know, I must not step upon Forest grounds.”

“Right…yeah, ok,” Atlas nodded slowly again, still just as confused.

“A warning of what?” Harry asked and Firenze turned to him, looking him over impassively before he spoke again.

“Hagrid has long since earned my respect for the care he shows all living creatures,” Firenze began, crossing his arms tightly over his chest so that the hoof mark there became more prominent. “I shall not betray his secret. But he must be brought to his senses. The attempt is not working. Tell him, either of you. Good day to you.”

But Atlas could not find the chance to tell Hagrid this, with Umbridge attending every Care of Magical Creatures lesson she found herself stuck between a rock and a very hard place, so she had enlisted Harry’s help, asked him to do it in her stead and he had nodded, agreed and made something up about losing his book before turning back to Hagrid’s hut. Atlas would have done the same, only, she knew without a doubt Umbridge would notice for she had not taken her eyes off of the girl, not once during any lesson she attended to monitor.

In fact, it got to a point where Atlas idly wondered if Umbridge was even there to observe Hagrid, rather, she thought Umbridge had become inclined to watching her, ready to catch her at any mistake. It was tiring, walking on eggshells, and the class she once loved became a sort of punishment, she found she couldn’t even interact with any of the magical creatures, so put out she thought she’d only dampen the moods of the little beasts. Once, when Hagrid had reintroduced them to the Bowtruckles, Atlas had not even approached the bench o chose a companion, resulting in the upset in a small army of twigs.

“Hagrid said his thing is coming along fine,” Harry’s voice startled her and Atlas looked up from her homework. “Said we should tell Firenze not to worry.”

“What is this ‘thing’ though?” Atlas asked, turning fully to the boy.

“I don’t know but I’m worried,” Harry said and Atlas sighed, looking to the clock over on the far wall.

“Right…that’s just something to look out for then,” she said and Harry nodded, “when Hermione and Ron get back from their Prefects meeting we’ll be going to the DA, right? What have you got something in mind?”

“Oh, well, since a majority of the class has succeeded in some form of wandless or wordless magic I was thinking we’d move onto something else,” Harry said, sitting on the sofa behind her. Atlas nodded, lifting herself to sit beside him. “Patronus Charms.”

“Well…I won’t be able to help you with that,” Atlas huffed, wringing her hands together. “I can’t conjure mine.”

“Maybe this time –“

“No, Harry, honestly I can’t conjure one,” Atlas sighed shaking her head, “I’ve tried for years, it’s not going to happen.”

“What are you going to do against the Dementors?”

“No idea,” Atlas shrugged, turning back to her work. Harry frowned and pulled at her arm.

“Hey, I’m serious…it’s ok if you don’t get it today but we’ve got to try,” Harry said, so seriously Atlas could not help but agree.

When Ron and Hermione arrived Harry fiddled with his false Galleon to remind the rest of the DA about the meeting before the four of them left, acting nonplussed and unassuming as they went. It was nowhere near curfew so nobody would think it was strange to see them walking about and they couldn’t be pulled up on it either, so they idly chatted, eyeing Filtch and his cat when they walked passed before making a beeline for the Room of Requirements entrance. Or rather, they made several beelines considering they had to pass the wall a number of times before they could enter.

Now, while that did look strange nobody was around and when they entered a number of other students were already inside, excitedly talking amongst themselves, wondering what the lesson might pertain. Harry and Atlas hadn’t even told Hermione and Ron yet, so it was a true surprise one Atlas clearly did not care for as she left the announcement to her partner when almost everyone was present by the deadline.

“Today I’ll be covering Patronus Charms, Corporeal and Non-Corporeal. I’m afraid it’ll just be me today,” Harry said and Atlas nodded.

“I’ve yet to cast mine successfully,” Atlas told and she noticed how instantly many faces dropped as if hearing that Atlas could not produce a Patronus meant they had no hope. “Though that is only because of my circumstances, I’m…stunted in that area of magic, so all of you will find it much easier than me.”

That at least seemed to lighten their moods.

“So, shall we begin?” Harry asked and at the many nodded heads he began his lecture.

His demonstration was nothing short of awe-inspiring, Atlas had not seen Harry ever cast his Patronus, let alone his corporeal one so she was just as enamoured as the rest of the class but then it came to their turns and Atlas was struck again by the reminder that no matter how she tried she had never been able to produce her own and she didn’t think she ever would. She stared down at her wand, rolling it in her palm as many successful incantations sounded around her.

They’d all been at it for hours now and a few had managed to produce fully corporeal Patronus’s, Luna’s was revealed to be a small hare and Ginny had just managed to manifest a large horse that stood beside her protectively, even Ron had conjured his, a little Jack Russell Terrier. Some only managed to create whisps and shields but it was a lot better than Atlas who had not produced a single plume in their time there. She did not allow herself the frustration, however, she had known this would happen.

“They are sort of nice, aren’t they?” Atlas looked up from her wand and around the class, watching the many lights dancing around the room before she focused on the girl who had spoken. Hermione was there, smiling as what seemed to be a Wildcat walked around her, rubbing against her cheek before very elegantly making its way towards Atlas. It pruned against her face and curled around her neck, a cold softness tickling at her cheek where the little beast licked her. “Even Patronus adore you.”

“Apparently not,” Atlas said, fiddling with her wand.

“You’ll get it,” Hermione assured, reaching out to hold Atlas’s arm, “I mean, you’re you.”

“Maybe that’s exactly the problem,” Atlas muttered.

“Hey…come on, tell me your happiest memory. The happiest you’ve ever been,” Hermione quizzed as her Wildcat continued to show Atlas an embarrassing amount of affection, “ok, first, I need to just…” her Patronus disappeared and the comforting pressure Atlas felt at her neck and cheek faded. “All right, go ahead, I’m all ears.”

“Well…I don’t –“

The door of the Room of Requirement had opened and closed, drawing Atlas’s sentence short. She looked around, perplexed for a moment as there did to seem to be anyone there but then a small body collided with her leg and she looked down, startled to find Dobby at her feet. He was wearing an array of woolly hats, ones Hermione had probably gifted him.

“Oh, hi Dobby,” She said and waved over to Harry who had seen the whole thing, “I suppose you were looking for Harry, he’s coming over now, look there he — hey, what’s wrong?”

Dobby’s eyes were very wide, full of terror, fear Atlas had seen only on a handful of occasions. He was shaking trembling, legs like twigs in a fierce breeze. Those members of the DA who stood closest all turned to watch as Harry came to a stop beside Hermione and Atlas and what light came from the silvery mist of those successful Patronus died at once. The room had never seemed so dark.

“Harry Potter, sir…Miss Atlas,” he squeaked, his voice trembling so whole it was hard to make out a lot of what he was saying so shrilly. “Dobby has come to warn you…Mr Fobbo told me to tell but the house-elves have been warned not to…”

He tried to run headfirst into a wall but Atlas grabbed him by the back of his shirt, pulling him back and in front of her. The motion jolted a few of his hats from his head and Atlas placed them back on top very gently, trying to be the pillar of calm the elf seemed to need. Harry crouched down beside her, concerned.

“What’s happened, Dobby?” Harry asked and he had taken the elf’s tiny hand in his to stop him from reaching out for some of the sharp and very shiny things adorning the shelves.

“Harry Potter, miss Atlas…she…she,” Dobby hit himself hard upon his nose and went to do it again but Hermione grasped it this time, worry pinched at her face.

“Who’s…who’s ‘she’, Dobby?” Atlas asked though, deep down, she knew because she knew there was only one person that could induce such fear upon someone. The type that made you lose all sense, “Umbridge?”

Dobby nodded and tried to ram his face against the girl’s knee, but she stood before he could.

“She’s found out about us?” She asked and he nodded again, his confirmation putting looks of terror upon everyone’s faces, Harry and Hermione looked up at Atlas, horrified. Then, very quietly, Atlas spoke again, “is she coming?”

Dobby let out a horrible cry and tried desperately to injure himself as he nodded frantically.

“Yes, Atlas Magianima, yes!”

“Run,” Atlas said very clearly and very loudly as she stared at the elf and when nobody moved, her face morphed into one of rage, eyes flicking viciously to everyone who stood, frozen solid. “Run! Fucking run! What are you doing!? Get out of here!”

All at once, they pelted for the exit, forming a very large bulk at the door, then when the oak doors fell open, they all sprinted in different directions, scattering like ants, Atlas waited until everyone was out, ushering them all along urgently. Harry and Hermione were at the back, harry with Dobby in his arms and Hermione holding Atlas tightly. And that was no good at all, Atlas needed to get away, she needed to, to complete her end of the deal, to keep her promise to Dumbledore.

“Harry, that way, go to the bathroom!” Atlas shouted and dragged Hermione a different way, intent on hiding her somewhere. The boy agreed, Dobby in his arms and the two girls took off running in another direction.

But there were steps up ahead. Distinct ones. Sharp and snappy, belonging to stubby legs. Atlas stopped and turned, lunging for the door of an unused bathroom and hurried inside, she pushed Hermione into a cubicle and they stood atop the seat, Atlas with her hand to Hermione’s mouth to stop the sounds of her haggard breathing while she pressed their foreheads together eyes closed. She focussed on the steps and listened as they grew farther and farther away, she waited until she could longer hear them before she even dared pull a finger away from Hermione’s face.

When she was sure, absolutely certain, she pulled away and they climbed down from the toilet seat, both hearts hammering but one more painfully than the other. Atlas leant against a sink, jaw clenched as she held at the pain of her chest, breaths coming out short, staggered. It panged in agony with every intake and burned like a hells flame when she would release it. Hermione was quick to her side, holding her steady.

“Atlas,” she spoke in a whisper, “Atlas what’s happening?”

It was warning her of the danger to come, a danger she already knew of but it seemed her heart had not taken that fact into consideration. Atlas stood again, tall as her gaze turned to the ceiling and sweat dripped down the sides of her face.

“Talk to me.”

“Just pains…” Atlas breathed and looked at her again, chewing the inside of her cheek. She went to speak but the door to their bathroom slammed open and instead, she drew her wand, lightning-fast and raised it at the intruder. But it faltered, just the slightest bit when she realised who it was. “Daphne?”

“I’m…I’m here to help,” she said and Atlas looked at her, very dubiously. “I know I might not be the best aide but…I know their pattern of patrol, Pansy told me, they’re looking for you guys, anyone that’s out of breath.”

“Why?”

“I owe you, remember?” Daphne said and Atlas swallowed, glancing to Hermione who would not stop scowling and back to Daphne who was growing more and more nervous by the second.

“Ok, take Hermione,” Atlas said and Hermione blanched, the scowl slipping from her face and instead she stumbled away, looking up at Atlas in disbelief. “Please, Hermione…I need to go and get Harry, I’ll be ok. It’ll be easier for two people to sneak around than three.”

“Absolutely not. No way,” Hermione snapped shaking her head.

“I’m just trying to help,” Daphne pressed, looking quickly over her shoulder. “We don’t have much time.”

“You can shove that help right up your –“

“Hermione,” Atlas interrupted, taking the girl by the shoulders and spinning her around to look at her. “Please…please, I’m begging you to just go, I need you to go.”

“But –“

“I’ll meet you later, ok,” Atlas said, moving her hands to the girl’s face now and Hermione looked at her, angered expression turning to that of a worried one, her brows creasing as she searched Atlas’s eyes, her own darting back and forth.

“Ok…” Hermione pulled away and looked over at Daphne, frowning, “ok, I’ll go.”

“Thank you,” Atlas sighed and nodded at the Slytherin, “I’m trusting you, Daphne. Keep her safe.”

“I will, if I didn’t, Ria would kill me,” Daphne sighed.

“I would kill you,” Atlas said, glaring at her.

“Right, ok…noted,” Daphne swallowed thickly and turned, poking her head out of the doorway to look down each corridor, she motioned over her shoulder and Hermione reluctantly followed her out, casting Atlas a brief look before she disappeared and the door closed behind them.

After a few moments, Atlas left as well, checking over her shoulder at every turn as she made her way closer and closer to the bathroom she had told Harry to hide in. Her steps were as light as she could possibly make them and her wand was out and ready, she kept her gaze focused, ears tuned and registered the frantic breaths of someone in the distance but they did not sound scared, they sounded ecstatic. She turned and raised her wand, finding Pansy Parkinson cornering some first-year who definitely had no part in the DA.

The kid’s eyes flicked over to her and Pansy followed the movement, immediately raising her wand when she registered who it was. Atlas did the very same, stance unwavering whereas Pansy seemed a little shaky, a little scared, she clearly had not been expecting to be the one face to face with Atlas and her wand.

“Hey, kid, get running then,” Atlas snapped and the boy nodded, vanishing so quickly it was as if he wasn’t there.

“You should just surrender you know,” Pansy said, voice wavering as she swallowed, “we’ve got Harry, so you should just come quietly too.”

“You’ve got Harry?” Atlas asked, quirking a brow and Pansy nodded, “all right…you caught me,” she threw up her hands after discarding her wand and Pansy seemed to falter, blinking rapidly as her own wand lowered and she bent to pick up Atlas’s.

“What?”

“I surrender,” Atlas said and walked forward, “figured you’d like it this way. You’d never be able to take me,” she muttered and as she drew closer, Pansy seemed to shrink. “In a fight, I mean.”

At that the Slytherin seemed to snap from her stupor, scowling as she turned Atlas around and pressed her wand into the girl’s back, ushering her along. They were at the stone gargoyles guarding Dumbledore’s office in minutes, the both of them silent as Atlas’s heart began to lurch so violently in her chest she thought it might break free but she did not let the fear show, walking slowly up the steps no matter how many times Pansy stabbed her in the back.

Pansy had to push past to knock and at their admission, she opened the door and pushed Atlas inside. “I’ve captured Atlas, Professor Umbridge.”

“Excellent, Pansy, excellent, oh, very good — fifty points to Slytherin. You managed to subdue her, I see you have her wand,” Umbridge grinned, so wholeheartedly Atlas had to look away but it had been the wrong thing to do, the very wrong thing to do as her eyes landed upon Harry. A boy who knew Pansy Parkinson would never be able to best her in a duel and he was staring at her with such emotion she could not hope to discern which one.

Was he angry, sad, or scared? Merlin, she didn’t know.

“Minerva, please escort Harry and Marietta back to their dormitories as, and I’m sure the Minister will agree, it’s clear they have done no wrong,” Dumbledore said, cutting through the stunned silence of the office. Atlas looked over at Marietta, another student of the DA and Cho’s best friend and noticed the purple pustules upon her face that formed the word SNEAK.

“But, Albus, what of Atlas?” Minerva said nervously, looking between her goddaughter and the school’s headmaster, she did not spare the rest of the room a glance.

“A separate discussion will be held,” the Minister, Fudge, said, looking so jovial Atlas felt physically and violently ill at the sight. His words did not seem to strike Minerva, as the woman remained to stare at their headmaster.

“It’s as Cornelius said, Minerva, I must clear Atlas’s name also, mustn’t I?” He said and Minerva’s eyes flitted one again between the two before she nodded, turning to Harry and sending a long look over at Marietta.

“Very well…I will return these two back to their houses,” Minerva nodded and Atlas had to avoid her gaze, looking at her feet instead. “Miss Parkinson, you will join me as well,” she said, a little harsher this time as she took Atlas’s wand from between the girl’s fingers and exited the room, Marietta following very closely behind.

“What are you doing?” Harry whispered harshly, grabbing his arm as Pansy exited before him. “There’s no way Pansy got you.”

“I wasn’t thinking right, she got the better of me,” Atlas offered lamely and before Harry could retort he was ushered out of the room by none other than Percy Weasley, who had been stood at Fudge’s side, and the door was clamped shut behind him. “Hello, Perce…long time no see.”

He ignored her, glaring scornfully as he returned to the Minister’s side.

“Atlas, Atlas…Atlas,” the Minister spoke, shaking his head. “I should have known.”

“Known what, Minister?” Atlas asked because she couldn’t very well admit to it all straight away, it would seem too easy and even someone as dimwitted as the Minister would notice this. “I, quite frankly, don’t know why I’m here.”

“Harry said the very same, such a pair,” Fudge muttered, distastefully. He turned to Umbridge and smiled, “Madam Umbridge, you were saying you were sure of Atlas’s involvement before she was brought in?”

“Yes, Minister,” Umbridge grinned and she presented a piece of parchment, one Atlas knew very well but she quickly became perplexed by this for Atlas had never actually signed the parchment, so her name would not be among the rest. But that was apparently not a worry of Umbridge’s. “I meant to reveal this earlier, it was retrieved by Miss Parkinson when she did a sweep of the Room of Requirement. It contains all of their names, everybody a part of that secret organisation and though Atlas’s name is not amongst them all, Miss Edgecombe told me prior to this that Atlas had been teaching them magic. Wandless magic not deemed fit by the Ministry.”

She handed it to the Minister and he read down it carefully.

“And from what Miss Edgecombe said, to my understanding, it seemed as if Atlas acted as a sort of Lieutenant General, to — as you can see Minister — Dumbledore’s Army,” Umbridge looked pleased, very pleased, she was positively beaming as Fudge’s eyes fell upon Atlas, practically bulging. Atlas swallowed thickly, her heart clenching so painfully she hoped it would not hinder her coming performance. Her eyes flicked over to Umbridge and she swallowed so that her ears popped. She was about to give the woman the greatest present of a lifetime.

“Well, the game is up, I’d say,” Dumbledore said simply. “Would you like a written confession from me, Cornelius — or will a statement before these witnesses suffice?”

“You organised this?” Fudge breathed, clearly rattled as he stumbled backwards, yelped and jumped out of Dumbledore’s fire. He stamped out his cloak as Atlas moved around him and stood beside Dumbledore, blank-faced.

“I did,” Dumbledore nodded.

“You recruited these students for — for your army? And you — you, Atlas, after all, that I have done to keep your condition hush,” he was very red, very purple, an array of colours flashing across his skin as he shook his head and raised a finger. “That’ll be no more…no more, I tell you.”

“I’m not of age yet Minister, you’ll still have to keep it hush,” Atlas said, lowly. “Or you’ll end up just like –“

“Atlas be quiet,” Dumbledore said quite calmly.

“Yes, shut up, Black!” Fudge barked, still red-faced but his anger made way for something else, something akin to horrified delight, “Well, well, well — I came here tonight expecting to expel Potter or Black and instead –“

“Instead you get to arrest me,” Dumbledore said, smiling. “It’s like losing a Knut and finding a Galleon, isn’t it?”

“Yes…yes, Madam Umbridge, take Atlas away, get her statement and punish her accordingly!” Fudge rattled, eyes still settled on Dumbledore. Atlas swallowed as a sharp pain stabbed right through her heart. She felt as if she might cough up a sizeable chunk of blood any moment now and tried her damnedest to not look over in Umbridge’s direction where she was sure she’d find the woman jumping for absolute joy.

“Of course, Minister. It’d be my pleasure,” Umbridge wrapped her hand around Atlas’s arm, failing to curl it around the girl’s bicep as she pulled her to the exit.

“Do not think she’ll let anything up,” Dumbledore said, looking discreetly over at Atlas. “She is not as loose-lipped as Barty Crouch Jr once was.”

Junior, why had he mentioned him? Atlas withheld her quizzical glance and turned to follow Umbridge out, practically stumbling down the stairs with how forceful Umbridge tugged her. The walk to the woman’s office was short, as Atlas had quickly grown quite dazed, the pain of her chest rendering her sort of delirious. She was only jolted slightly from her reverie when she was pushed into a seat.

“Atlas, Atlas…Atlas,” Umbridge said, voice sweet as she tutted and poked at her fireplace with an oddly ended poker. “I should have known not to give you a second chance, I had thought my reminder of our staggering power imbalance would have warned you not to cross me. You should have known by now the consequences would be severe,” she turned and sauntered over to an array of drinks, “care for a drink?”

“I’m not thirsty,” Atlas rasped and the woman turned to her, eyes quite mad.

“I insist,” Umbridge pressed and Atlas eyed the cup she brought over, thinking back to what Dumbledore had said. She would not be as loose-lipped as Barty Crouch Jr and the only reason he had been loose-lipped was because — “here,” — he had been under the influence of Veritaserum.

Atlas took the drink and brought it to her lips, pretending to take a sip for the longest moment, keeping her eyes upon Umbridge who was subtly nodding all the while. It had not even made an inch from her face before the goblet was smacked from her hand very suddenly and she was pushed to the floor, the chair beneath her clattering loudly as she wheezed.

“Now, Marietta claimed Harry was another at the group’s head, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley as well,” Umbridge said and Atlas looked up at her through bleary eyes. “Care to explain that?”

“A Hydra has many heads only one of them is immortal, the most important,” Atlas said and she wiped at the wet upon her lips, “that’s me.”

“So you admit it? You were the leader of these meetings? You taught those students magic unsanctioned by the Ministry?” Umbridge pressed, gleeful as her eyes bulged. She looked as if she were a toad being squeezed in the hand of an overexcited child.

“Yes.”

“You went against the Ministry?”

“I did.”

“You went against me?”

“…I did,” Atlas wheezed and then scowled, suddenly uncaring for she knew she would be punished regardless, “you fucking bitch.”

Umbridge looked mad, beyond insane so horrifically happy it was nothing short of sociopathic. She walked away, very calmly but Atlas could see her entire figure buzzed with ecstasy as she grabbed the poker from the fire, turning with it raised and it was then that Atlas realised what it was, what the words at its end, red from the flame, said.

Illegal Animagi.

Atlas really should have known, it was the one thing Umbridge had never been allowed to do, her suggestions of it in court alongside Lucius Malfoy, though not entirely opposed, were always overruled and she would be left to suggest the punishment of branding for another day. Back then Atlas would have preferred it over Azkaban and even now she felt the same but seeing it, in front of her, wafting a heat she imagined to reflect the deepest pits of hell, she could not help but think otherwise.

“You can’t do that.”

“Oh, but I can. Cornelius said I must punish you accordingly and I think this punishment is fit for your crime. Treason and conspiring against the Ministry?” Umbridge said sweetly, a lilt to her voice as she tilted her head to the side, “you’re lucky I haven’t shipped you off to Azkaban.”

“No…no you wouldn’t because that wouldn’t satisfy you, would it?” Atlas said, shaking now as she pushed herself to her knees, “you sadistic bitch.”

“Careful, I wouldn’t want to have to call Hermione Granger to my office, or Harry Potter for that matter. Ronald Weasley or his sister, Ginevra Weasley? So many to choose from,” Umbridge sang and Atlas stopped, swallowing solidly as tears pooled in her eyes but she did not let them fall, she would not give the toad the satisfaction. “So I’d mind my tongue if I were you. By disrespecting me, Atlas, you are disrespecting the Ministry and by extension, the Minister himself and I will not tolerate disloyalty.”

“I’m…I’m not even an Illegal Animagi,” Atlas said, brows narrowed as she eyed the hot tip.

“But you are. The last time I checked, you are not documented, there’s no knowledge of your existence within the Ministry’s database — you are officially a total unknown,” Umbridge hummed and her smile stretched further as she pulled out her wand, “Incarcerous,” she whispered very softly and thin ropes came up to bind Atlas, holding her still. The girl struggled, of course, it was her natural instinct and soon her hands formed paws and her body began to grow, “Angorgio Clausus.“

The transformation stopped at once and Atlas was left panting, knelt on the floor, a muzzle around her head and bar between her teeth, her hands were bound behind her and so were her legs. She looked up at Umbridge through glassy eyes and scowled, fidgeting as the woman slowly moved around to her back, bringing the hot brand close to her form so that the heat bled through her clothes only to pull away at the last moment, she seemed to be finding the right spot but it also could be mistaken as her toying with her prey.

“Perfect.”

It happened all so quickly. In one swift movement, Umbridge had pressed the words upon her back, dead between her shoulder blades where the cloth of her shirt burned and melted to her skin. Atlas arched, teeth almost shattering from how hard she tried to clench them and bit back her cries, closing her eyes tight as tears pooled within them. She had felt worse, endured worse and soon enough the feeling grew numb but her body was tired, her mind was tired so when Umbridge pulled the brand away with an audible draw she fell forward, forehead to the floor as sweat beaded down her face.

There was a knock and Umbridge placed the poker back into the fire to greet her visitor, unwavering despite Atlas on the floor, a few paces away silently groaning into her carpet. She opened the door to reveal its innards after unbinding Atlas, the ropes in the middle of falling apart and the muzzle vanishing by the time the door had fully opened.

Atlas moved, pushing herself away from the floor so that she could see who had knocked.

“Miss Parkinson, Miss Greengrass, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Umbridge beamed, wiping the sweat from her brow as the two Slytherins girls became clear to Atlas’s foggy eyes.

“Professor Umbridge, I was just wondering if…” Pansy’s words died out as she looked past the woman, eyes falling upon Atlas whom she had never seen so sickly.

“Yes, girl? What is it? Come, come…come in,” Umbridge coaxed, stepping aside. She looked over at Atlas briefly before turning to Daphne, “Miss Greengrass, would you take Atlas back to her dormitory, for me? While Miss Parkinson and I have a chat?”

“Of — of course, Professor Umbridge,” Daphne nodded, walking forward and bending down with her arms held towards her, Atlas just shook her head very faintly. Daphne frowned and pulled her to her knees, taking a moment before she eventually tugged the girl to her feet. Atlas fell against her and Daphne made the mistake of wrapping her arms around her back to steady her, and her hands fell upon something wet. She spoke her next words in a whisper, “Atlas…Atlas what did she do?”

“Fobbo…” Atlas muttered, so Umbridge would not hear. Daphne nodded and guided Atlas out of the room, looking over at Pansy who was wide-eyed and fearful, practically shaking.

It took a very long arduous while before the two of them stumbled into the kitchens, interrupting the elves from whatever preparations they had been in the middle of and at the sight of Atlas, every utensil, plate and cloth fell to the floor coming together as one giant clatter. In an instant they were upon them, offering their assistance, their expertise but not one of those faces belonged to Fobbo who Atlas searched and searched for through bleary eyes. He was not there.

“Shit…” Atlas breathed shakily and swallowed hard, narrowing her gaze again, “Dobby? Winky?” she managed, waiting for the two to push forward, their hands clasped before them as they stared up at her through big watery eyes.

“Kind Miss! Kind Miss!” Winky cried stumbling forward to hold Atlas’s hand not currently draped over Daphne’s shoulder. She was no longer cradling a bottle of Apple Wine as she usually did and that was probably why she looked so much better, save the snot falling from her nose and tears drenching her cheeks “What has happened to the kind Miss?!”

“Miss Atlas! Miss Atlas, let me get Harry Potter! He will — he will –“

“No, Dobby,” Atlas gasped, tearing her hand from Winky’s and grabbing Dobby’s shoulder. “Stay here, that’s — that’s an order,” her legs gave out and she collapsed to her knees, Daphne falling with her from the sudden weight. They collided and Atlas let out a very harsh cry, her arms beneath her, holding her up, began to shake. “Winky,” she wheezed and reached for the bench by her side. “I need…I need dressings, those big ones, some medical tape, bandages and a burn salve. It’s orange and smells strongly of hibiscus flowers. Get — get it for me…please. It’s in the infirmary.”

“Yes! Yes, of course, kind Miss,” she nodded vehemently and disappeared with a snap and a puff of glitter. Atlas grunted as she pulled herself up, Daphne reaching to help only to jump back when Atlas glared at her.

“You…Daphne, I need you to…” Atlas grit her teeth, so hard they creaked as she chewed over her next words, “I need you to peel away my shirt.”

“Are you sure?” Daphne asked, brows furrowed as she glanced to the exit, “I could go and get, Hermione –“

“No! No, she can’t…she can’t see this,” Atlas whispered, desperation, an urgency in her words so painful it struck Daphne hard, “she can’t…”

“Ok…ok,” Daphne eased and moved closer, frowning as Atlas looked away and shakily turned to reveal her back, the words burned upon it oozed liquid, drenching the cloth surrounding in an almost unnoticeable fluid. At first, Daphne did not know what to do, hands hovering, unsure before she finally reached forward and carefully peeled back every shaped letter of cloth, every fibre stuck to Atlas’s skin, growing paler and paler as the damage became more apparent.

She worked meticulously and carefully as Atlas panted and whined, sweat dripping down the girl’s nose and entire form incling this way and that, swaying with the pain. The kitchen watched with bated breaths while Dobby had taken to pressing a cold damp towel to Atlas’s head to combat her heated skin. Just as Daphne pulled away the rest of Atlas’s shirt clinging to her back, Winky returned, a large tub of paste cradled very protectively within her arms and a whole packet of bandages, dressings and a roll of tape on top. Atlas looked over at her, clutching what remained of her clothes to her chest to spare her dignity and gestured her over.

“Good…” Atlas breathed, swaying again. “Daphne…”

“Yeah, I got it,” Daphne nodded, taking the salve from Winky and unscrewing the cap so that a strong flowery scent washed over them. Again, she was unsure, watching as the muscles in Atlas’s back spasmed beneath each burn, eyeing each letter as it became clear of what they said. She blinked, then blinked again, glancing at Atlas who was already staring at her, a defeated look in her eye. “I…I won’t tell.”

Atlas did not respond, she merely turned around and stared into the wood of the bench she straddled, remaining silent, only hissing when Daphne began smoothing the paste over the burns, biting into her hand so that it drew a pinprick of blood. Then, towards the lower half of the burn, Atlas’s back began to twitch again and the girl began to cry and it was really becoming all too much for Daphne so she was glad when the last dregs of the paste were applied and she was able to pull away.

It was all very still for a while as Atlas recovered from the shock of the salve, now bubbling upon the burns, she breathed heavily, so heavily her back and chest rose and settled distinctly, until she reached out and grabbed the dressings from Winky, tearing them open with her teeth and holding it out for Daphne, expectant but silent. Daphne did not protest, she took the patch from the girl readily and placed it over the wound, taping it down and then rolling a length of bandage around her chest, not tight so that it restricted her breathing but enough to protect the area.

“Done.”

Again, Atlas did not speak, remaining still for a very long while as Dobby continued to dab at her forehead with icy cold water. Winky watched quietly before presenting an item of clothing toward the girl, muttering about retrieving for her a new, unsoiled shirt and it was only upon seeing the shirt did Atlas move, weakly reaching out and grabbing the garment with a shaky hand. She struggled for a while, trying to get it over her head but she did not accept any help from Daphne, warning her away with a single movement until she got it. On her own.

“What happened when I took Hermione?” Daphne asked after a very pregnant pause. Atlas continued to stare, leaning into the cold Dobby supplied before she finally sighed, very unsteadily.

“I was taken up to Dumbledore’s office,” she spoke so lowly it was hard to hear but Daphne didn’t dare move any closer. “He admitted to conspiring against the Ministry, admitted to raising an army — the DA. He’s — he’s probably been sacked…”

“But, who will take his place?”

“Who do you think?” Atlas asked coldly, looking at the girl for a very brief moment before turning back to Dobby.

“That doesn’t explain why you were punished,” Daphne pressed and Atlas chewed at her lip, closing her eyes. “Atlas?”

“Umbridge accused me of being a Lieutenant General to the army, I was punished as such.”

“Why didn’t you object?” Daphne asked and Atlas shook her head, gripping the edges of the bench tightly.

“I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because of the deal…” Atlas whispered, so quietly, Daphne subconsciously inclined, snapping backwards once she had realised her movement.

“Deal? Atlas, what deal? To who?”

“Dumbledore,” Atlas admitted, opening her eyes and pulling away from Dobby’s towel to look at Daphne, “I made a deal with Dumbledore.”

“For what? I thought you’d never go to him for anything. What could be so important?” Daphne pressed and Atlas looked at very intently for a moment, willing for the girl to get it as Daphne continued to stare at her, perplexed until it hit and she softened, falling away. “You…you got the cure from Dumbledore?”

Atlas nodded.

“But…but –“

“We made a deal…if the DA were to be revealed, to save everyone from getting punished I was to take the blow,” Atlas recalled, grimacing when she made to stand, her legs like jelly, she was a newborn foal atop wobbly feet. “I was to…distract Umbridge so that she would not even think of punishing any of the others…I’d say it worked — she’ll be riding this high for a while.”

“Atlas…Atlas that’s wrong,” Daphne whispered.

“…yeah, it is,” Atlas agreed, “but I couldn’t let Tori die…”

Daphne startled, looking upon the girl quietly before she swallowed. “Atlas you didn’t — did you do this because of what I said in the library?”

That silence again and Daphne quickly grew wide-eyed.

“Atlas, I’m so –“

“Don’t, I’ve already told you not to apologise for that,” Atlas murmured and frowned, looking over at the door, “I — I need to go, Hermione will be wondering where I am.”

“Let me help you then,” Daphne rushed to stand.

“No, no…I’m fine on my own,” Atlas insisted, holding her hand up but it was clear she wasn’t, her skin a sickly pale and her entire figure shaking with the exertion of holding herself up. Daphne pleaded silently but Atlas was relentless, “I said no, Daphne just…just go home, you’ve helped me enough.”

“But it was my fault in the first place! It’s my –“

“Daphne…” Atlas said warningly, “I chose to go to Dumbledore, it was me, not you, ok?”

“You wouldn’t have if I hadn’t –“

“But I would have,” Atlas told and sighed, “you’re sister, she means a lot to me…I didn’t see her often and we — we didn’t really talk outside of the meetings we had here but somehow she managed to become something dear and I…I always protect those I hold close. Understand?”

Daphne nodded and backed away while Atlas smiled wearily.

“Good…I’ll see you, Greengrass,” Atlas managed and struggled over to the door, grimacing as she pulled it open.

She heard Daphne’s quiet goodbye and left, beginning her silent and agonising trek up to Gryffindor Tower, stopping for breaks routinely and struggling up the revolving staircase. Once outside the Lady’s painting, she briefly exchanged some words with the woman and stepped inside. She looked around, noting the abundance of faces, all stricken and all familiar, old members of the DA gathered in one place, of course, there was an absence of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff ties.

Harry stood first, then Ron and when Hermione had looked up from her hands at their movements she stood also. But she was the first to approach, running at her from across the commons to reach her as fast as she could, movements so quick they did not register in Atlas’s pain addled mind until she was there, in her arms, rattling off her worries and her questions, holding her tightly around her middle, just below Atlas’s burn. Then, the rest of the DA turned, looking over at Atlas with wide relieved eyes.

“What happened? Harry said you weren’t there when he went back to Dumbledore’s office.” Hermione breathed, burying her face into Atlas’s sweater.

“You went back?” Atlas asked, burying her hand within Hermione’s hair and holding her closer.

“I forced McGonagall to take me back…I thought something might happen but you weren’t there,” Harry muttered, looking at her, searching for any tell she might have, not that he knew how to identify one.

“So you saw what happened with Dumbledore then?” Atlas asked, dodging the question so obviously, even Ron looked suspicious.

“Yeah, he…he was sacked, vanished with Fawkes,” Harry muttered but shook his head, “that’s beside the point, where did you go? Umbridge wasn’t there either. Did she…did she take you somewhere?”

“…well,” Atlas did not know what to say, with the agony of her back burning ever brighter, it became so apparent she wasn’t sure she could hide it if this continued. “She just got my statement for Fudge.”

“Nothing happened?” Harry asked as Hermione slowly began to pull away, the girl’s eyes set on Atlas, “Atlas…did something happen?”

“She just,” Atlas made the mistake of briefly glancing upon Hermione, finding herself trapped within the girl’s eyes, deep pools of concern, something searching in them. Then she really pulled away, taking three steps back — yes, Atlas counted — before stumbling to a stop.

“Atlas, you didn’t — you didn’t take the blame did you?” Hermione breathed and Atlas quickly shook her head.

“No, I…I didn’t she…she put it on me, she blamed me in the office, I…” Atlas struggled for words, glancing around at the many faces, some were relieved but others showed conflict, looking guilty as well, there were some that just looked worried and concerned and those closest, dear friends of Atlas looked pained.

“Did you…did you at least try and plead your case?” Hermione asked and when Atlas did not respond, Hermione quickly grew upset, “Atlas — Atlas, tell me you pleaded your case. Tell me you didn’t just lie down and take it.”

“Hermione…”

“What happened then?” Harry asked as Hermione continued to stare at Atlas, all kinds of betrayed. “What did she do?”

“We just…talked,” Atlas lied, swallowing solidly.

“Don’t lie,” Harry said, so harshly everyone flinched but not Atlas, she simply stared at him, frowning. “Did she…Atlas, did she hurt you?”

It wasn’t exactly news to anybody, the fact that Umbridge’s punishment seemed to teeter on the line of abuse and discipline, Atlas and Harry had not been the only ones to receive detention with the woman after all but this was something else, they had been conspiring against her, they had broken countless rules and gone behind her back. The punishment would surely be more but just how much more, they did not know.

“It — it doesn’t matter,” Atlas said and sighed, her back aching painfully, “ultimately, she got away with it, she had permission so there’s no point contesting it.”

“But, mate, what did she do?” Ron asked softly.

“It’s not important,” Atlas insisted.

“Of course it’s important,” George spoke this time and Atlas startled, she had forgotten the rest of the DA was there, sat, looking up at her. George stood as well and looked at her, sort of desperate. He had been there before, seen the moment Umbridge had struck her after the match against Slytherin, he’d been stood beside Harry.

“It’s…it’s personal,” Atlas murmured, blinking rapidly, “look, just leave it yeah?” she pleaded, looking quickly to Hermione who was frowning, “Hermione –“

“Come with me,” Hermione said, gently grasping Atlas’s wrist and tugging her up to their dorm. Atlas tried to protest, her pleas falling upon deaf ears until they were in their room and Hermione was busying herself with a few of the animal carvings upon her desk.

Atlas did not speak and her back wept in agony.

“Will you show me?” Hermione asked and Atlas looked at the floor, “didn’t think so.”

“Mi, I –“

“Don’t,” Hermione said very quietly and sat atop her covers, patting the spot beside her. Atlas hesitated before walking forward, slowly lowering herself to the mattress before sinking into it with a quiet sigh of relief. “I know I really shouldn’t and it really seems like you keep every promise except the ones you make to me but still, I need you to make me a promise.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t lie to me,” Hermione said and there was a slight crack to her words, “please…I trust you the most and I can’t handle it when you lie, especially when you end up hurt.”

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” Atlas whispered and Hermione fell against her, utterly spent.

“So, do you promise me?”

“I do…I promise.”

“Then…then is it bad? What she did?” Hermione asked and Atlas sighed, hooking her arm around Hermione.

“Yeah…yeah, it’s really bad.”

“Will you ever let me see it?” Hermione continued and Atlas looked at her, furrowing her brows.

“You really don’t want to, Mi.”

“But would you?”

“Yeah…one day.”