Chapter 111

Atlas could not sleep. Her back ached terribly with every movement, her body sluggish from lack of rest, she struggled to keep her eyes open but would lurch with a start whenever she dared relax, it was a vicious cycle of jolting awake with every pang of pain. Which is why she found herself up in the Owlery, watching as the sun rose and Hogsmeade pried its eyes open to greet the new day, she watched as many set up their stalls, as chimneys puffed plumes of smoke and as lights flickered on within houses.

Sitting on a window ledge, a sheer drop just an inch to her right, she felt oddly peaceful despite her choice of seating. She had her back away from the wall so as not to place upon it any pressure and an unfinished carving in hand, a knife in the other, she hadn’t touched it yet, transfixed on Hogsmeade in the distance but many times she moved to cut back another peeling, only to stop when something else caught her eye. Like a Thestral flying in the distance or a guttural cry from a newly awakened creature, prowling in the Forbidden Forest.

She turned to it eventually, however, cutting and gouging until it took on a vaguely recognisable form, one of a lioness, she continued so that it adopted sharp yet tender eyes, a tuft of hair on its breast and then chipped in a few minuscule details, texturing the wood in places to look as if it were fur. Atlas blew the little chips of wood away and looked her creation over for a moment.

“That’s very cool,” Atlas startled, her back collided with the wall behind her and she let out a harsh cry, the figurine falling from her hand and plunging to the depths below. Cho went wide-eyed, reaching forward but Atlas held up her hand, taking a moment in silence to gather herself. “Shit, Atlas are you ok?”

“Fine,” Atlas gritted, adjusting herself. She sighed and pulled out her wand, “Accio carving,” she held up her hand and closed it when the wooden doll came flying back up and into her palm, she wiped away a few stray pieces of dirt. “What is it with us bumping into each other up here?”

“Must be fate?” Cho offered, shrugging lamely, she then sighed and leaned against the wall by Atlas’s feet. “Atlas, I just wanted to say…I never dreamed Marietta would tell, she’s a lovely person really.”

“I’m sure she is,” Atlas muttered, “doesn’t change the fact she sold us out.”

“Her mum works for the Ministry, it was really difficult for her,” Cho said and Atlas closed her eyes, shaking her head.

“Ron’s dad works for the Ministry too, that girl, Susan Bones, her aunt is a part of the Wizengamot,” Atlas retorted, turning with a wince and tucking the lioness carving in her pocket, “and, well, in case you hadn’t noticed, they haven’t got sneak written across their faces –“

“That was a really horrible trick of Hermione Granger’s,” Cho snapped fiercely and Atlas looked at her, eyes narrowed. “She should have told us she’d jinxed that list.”

“I like you, Cho, I really do but don’t talk shit about Hermione,” Atlas said, very calmly. Cho’s mouth snapped shut and Atlas watched how she clenched it, the muscle there going taut. Eventually, the girl let out a breath and looked to the side.

“I’m sorry, I just…Madam Pomfrey still hasn’t found a counter jinx and it’s beginning to look like Marietta is going to have that scar for the rest of her life,” Cho whispered and Atlas’s gaze softened, “she was just scared, the others clearly handled it better but you can’t really blame her, can you?”

“Yes and no…” Atlas admitted as she winced again, rolling her shoulders around. “I’ll talk to Hermione about getting the counter jinx,” she sighed, carefully lowering herself from the ledge and tucking her wand in its holster. “If you see Harry later, don’t mention Marietta and if you do, at least don’t stick up for her so vehemently, he’s angry, rightly so, which means he won’t filter his words.”

“You know about us then?”

“Sure, he told me about your first kiss,” Atlas nodded and noticed how Cho seemed to shuffle. “Cho…I know you lied about dealing with Cedric, if you don’t want to talk to me about it, that’s fine but…at least tell me you didn’t get with Harry as some sort of rebound.”

“No! No that’s not it at all…I like Harry, I really do,” Cho rushed and Atlas continued to stare at her.

“Still, if you haven’t properly gotten over Cedric, don’t you think it’s a bit unfair?” Atlas asked and Cho frowned, biting her lip. Atlas reached out and pulled the girl into a hug, “I don’t doubt you like Harry, Cho…just consider it, all right? Maybe you should heal a bit before jumping into another relationship, his death was hard on you both.”

“How about you?” Cho asked into her shoulder, hesitantly wrapping her arms around her also, “how have you been since our talk on the train?”

“Better, I talked to Hermione about him, still do…it’s easier, still hard,” Atlas admitted, looking up at the owls that lined the coves.

“And Bella?”

“…I haven’t talked to her in a very long while,” Atlas said quietly and pulled away, “but Bella’s like me…she grieves in silence or doesn’t at all, I suspect she’s smothered herself in work, even after telling me to remember Cedric before the graveyard. She’s never been one to stick to her own advice.”

“I hope she’s all right.”

“Me too,” Atlas murmured and let out a sigh, “anyway, I should go, I don’t want to miss Herbology like last time.”

“Right, I’ll see you Atlas,” Cho smiled, teary-eyed. Atlas reached out to wipe them away, smiling as well

“Yeah, see you.”

“And thanks for saying you’ll take to Hermione about the spots,” Cho added in a rush and Atlas nodded, taking her leave. She slowly descended the stairs, very sure she’d miss the beginning of Herbology and found herself correct when she waltzed into the greenhouse in the middle of one of Sprout’s lectures.

Luckily she wasn’t scolded and was instead directed to her seat where she stayed the entire lesson, listening as everyone gossiped on the news of Dumbledore’s escape and Umbridge’s announcement as Headmistress. Harry was the one giving the retelling, speaking between each shovel of fertilizer he gathered while Atlas kept to herself in the corner, avoiding the topic as a whole, Hermione was doing the same beside her, content to just get on with the lesson so Atlas did not bring up Marietta’s condition for the moment.

And when the lesson ended, Atlas gathered her things and followed after Harry. Ron and Ernie Macmillan were by his side while Hermione stuck to hers. Atlas was aware of Hermione’s hovering, she had noticed it halfway through Herbology when the girl had quickly bent to retrieve Atlas’s spade when she’d dropped it before it had even touched the floor but she did not comment on it. If it made Hermione feel even the slightest bit better about everything she wouldn’t stop her.

“Dumbledore will be back before long,” Ernie said very confidently and Atlas frowned, digging through her bag busily. “They couldn’t keep him away in our second year and they won’t be able to this time. The Fat Friar told me–” he became so quiet that Harry, Ron and Hermione had to lean closer to him to hear but Atlas remained upright, knowing that, much to her dismay, she would be able to hear him loud and clear without an incline “– that Umbridge tried to get back into his office last night after they’d searched the castle and grounds for him. Couldn’t get past the gargoyle. The Head’s office has sealed itself against her.” Ernie smirked. “Apparently, she had a right little tantrum.”

“Oh, I expect she really fancied herself sitting up there in the Heads’ Office,” Hermione snapped viciously as they rounded on the Entrance Hall. She had reached to grab Atlas’s arm mid-way through her sentence. “Lording it over all the other teachers, the stupid puffed-up, power-crazy old –“

“Now, do you really want to finish that sentence, Granger?” Draco Malfoy had appeared, with him, dumb and dumber, Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy looked upon them, eyes full of disdain and malice. “Afraid I’m going to have to dock a few points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.”

“It’s only teachers who can dock points from houses, Malfoy,” Ernie said at once.

“Yeah, we’re prefects too, remember?” Ron snarled.

“I know prefects can’t dock points, Weasel King,” Malfoy sneered as the two lumps of muscle flanking his sides sniggered dumbly. “But members of the Inquisitorial Squad –“

“The what?” Hermione said sharply.

“The Inquisitorial Squad, Granger,” Malfoy smirked, pointing haughtily to the silver ‘I’ pinned to his robes, glistening brightly beneath his prefects’ badge. “A select group of students who are supportive of the Ministry of Magic, hand-picked by Professor Umbridge. Anyway, members of the Inquisitorial Squad do have the power to dock points…so, Granger, I’ll have five from you for being rude about our new Headmistress. Macmillan, five for contradicting me. Five because I don’t like you, Potter. Weasley, your shirt’s untucked, so I’ll have another five for that. Oh yeah, I forgot, you’re a Mudblood, Granger, so ten off for that.”

Atlas made to advance, fists raised for a good ol’ fashioned brawl but Hermione pushed at her chest. “Don’t!”

“Wise move, Granger,” Malfoy breathed, though he had taken a subtle step back before grinning again, eyes alight, “almost forgot about you, Atlas but I’ll be nice, heard you had it bad enough last night.”

Now it was Atlas’s turn to hold Hermione back as the girl had suddenly drawn her wand, earning the eyes of those surrounding them. Malfoy stumbled as Crabbe and Goyle moved forward, cracking their fists.

“Leave them be, Draco,” Atlas turned to the voice just as she had pulled Hermione’s arm down, eyes settling on that familiar gaggle of girls she knew, all wearing green ties and knee-high socks. The one who had spoken was a surprise. Pansy Parkinson stood, decidedly avoiding Atlas’s gaze as she looked at Malfoy. “We’re starving, let’s just get to lunch.”

Atlas looked over at Daphne, the girl discretely smiling as she shrugged.

“Whatever,” Mafloy grumbled, turning quickly on his heel to leave, not before he got out another dig. “New head, new times…be good now, Mutt, Potty, Weasel King…keep an eye on that hourglass of yours.”

Laughing loudly, he walked away, Crabbe and Goyle following quickly after, the gaggle of girls not too far behind. Not one of them spared the Gryffindor lot a glance and before Atlas could voice her thoughts on it, she noticed the look of alarm on Ernie’s face.

“He was bluffing,” he breathed, looking appalled. “He can’t be allowed to dock points…that would be ridiculous…it would completely undermine the prefect system.”

Heeding Malfoy’s warning they each looked over to the giant hourglasses set in slots along the wall behind them and watched as little red stones flew upwards, reducing what had laid in the lower half. Atlas frowned and turned to look upon her friends, eyes raking over them only to settle on Hermione, the girl positively livid.

“Noticed, have you?” Fred asked and Atlas turned to him. He and George had just sauntered down the marble staircase to join them.

“Malfoy just docked us all about fifty points,” Harry snapped furiously as he turned away from the hourglass. Watching the red stones disappear was just bound to make them all angrier if they continued.

“It was thirty,” Atlas said, trying to lessen the blow but none of them appreciated the sentiment. “Sorry.”

“Well, Montague tried to do us during break,” George said, shrugging.

“What do you mean ‘tried’?” Ron asked quickly.

“He never managed to get all the words out,” Fred grinned, clicking his knuckles as if getting ready for a fist fight, “due to the fact that we forced him head-first into that Vanishing Cabinet on the first floor.”

“Good,” Hermione muttered darkly and Atlas turned to her, brows raised in shock. “Though you’ll get into terrible trouble, you know?”

“Not until Montague reappears, and that could take weeks, I dunno where we sent him,” Fred said cooly, though his mouth seemed to twitch upwards at Hermione’s ire. “Anyway…we’ve decided we don’t care about getting into trouble anymore.”

“Have you ever?” Hermione asked.

“‘Course we have,” George gasped, clutching his chest. “Never been expelled, have we?”

“We’ve always known where to draw the line,” Fred added, nodding his head matter of factly.

“We might have put a toe across it occasionally,” George said.

“But we’ve always stopped short of causing real mayhem,” Fred finalised, looking to George who nodded with him.

“But now?” Ron asked tentatively.

“Well, now –” George began.

“– what with Dumbledore gone –” Fred said.

“– we reckon a bit of mayhem –” George continued.

“– is exactly what our dear new Head deserves,” Fred finished and Atlas frowned at their back and forth, eyes flitting between each twin continuously.

“You mustn’t,” Hermione sighed, glancing up at Atlas who was subtly shifting from foot to foot. She needed to sit down. “While I’d love to see it, you really mustn’t. She’d love a reason to expel you.”

“You don’t get it, Hermione, do you?” Fred said, smiling wide. “We don’t care about staying anymore. We’d walk out right now if we weren’t determined to do our bit for the school first. So, anyway,” he checked his watch, “phase one is about to begin. I’d get in the Great Hall for lunch, if I were you, that way the teachers will see you can’t have had anything to do with it.”

“Anything to do with what?” Atlas asked.

“You’ll see,” George smiled and gently took her shoulder, winking. “We’ll get her back for you, Atlas. Run along, now.”

The Twins all but vanished before their very eyes, melting into the growing crowd headed for lunch so seamlessly it was as if they were liquid. Seeming incredibly perturbed, Ernie said something about homework and left but Atlas did not listen, nor did she really care, she was too busy watching Hermione’s expression, the mix of anxiety and something giddy. It was almost as if, Hermione ‘rule-abiding, straight-laced, stand up student’ Granger was eager for whatever mayhem the twins might cause.

It was a little disorienting.

“We should get to Lunch. Like they said, we don’t want to be here when it all goes down,” Atlas eventually spoke and Hermione looked up at her, her eyes widening. It seems she had forgotten herself for a moment and offered a sheepish smile. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you so thirsty for chaos.”

“It’s been known to happen,” Hermione shrugged and Ron nodded, beaming.

“Have we ever told you about how Hermione set Snape’s cloak on fire?” He asked and Atlas laughed, truly laughed, the type that made her belly ache as well as her back but she couldn’t help herself, grimacing at moments before chuckling again.

“I think you might’ve but — Jesus, it’s still funny to think about,” Atlas grinned, her smile full of mirth.

“Yeah, Harry, remember when –?” But Ron was cut off for they had turned and seen Filch standing just behind them, his gangly hand reaching for Harry’s shoulder, Atlas moved on instinct, tugging her brother away from the caretaker who — they could all probably mutually agree — was best viewed at a substantial distance.

“The Headmistress would like to see you, Potter,” he leered, eyeing Atlas’s movements before smiling again, “she also wants me to let you know she wishes for your speedy recovery, Black. And hopes you are well.”

“I’m — I’m well,” Atlas said, voice oddly strained as she continued to pull Harry back, her arm subtly out and in front of Ron and Hermione also. “I’m sure she’ll be please to know I’m feeling much better.”

Filch looked at her, displeased for a moment before his lips curled into that signature cruel smile of his and he turned back to Harry, beckoning him forward. Harry hesitated, looking up at Atlas but eventually pulling away with a smile and a brief wink, he muttered something assuring before following after the caretaker, making sure to give the man a very wide berth.

The three of them watched him go before exchanging glances with one another, Ron and Hermione’s eyes falling upon Atlas the longest before the girl shuffled uncomfortably and moved for the Great Hall. A feeling of unease enraptured her at the thought of Harry, sat, within Umbridge’s clutches, she was well aware the woman was probably still riding off of the high of their latest meeting but she was also well aware the woman’s cruelty knew no bounds.

She dropped heavily into her seat, Hermione doing the same beside her while Ron settled in front of them immediately dragging an assortment of foods to his plate. Atlas didn’t start eating just yet, fiddling with her fingers idly as her eyes wandered the hall, she found her gaze locked on the Slytherin table, more specifically the girl there who sat staring back. Daphne nodded and Atlas hesitated a moment before nodding back and motioning over to where Pansy sat, picking at her food.

For someone who had proclaimed she was starving she seemed wholly disinterested in the lavish feast, they were presented with for lunch. Daphne seemed to contemplate something before she shook her head, shrugging. Seemed she was at a loss as well. Atlas frowned and turned away her attention falling upon someone else this time. Cho. Who looked at her curiously, eyes flitting between Hermione and Atlas as if questioning.

Right, Atlas had almost forgotten.

“Mi?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask something of you,” Hermione looked up from her textbook and closed it softly, suddenly attentive.

“What is it?”

“Well, you know Marietta?” Atlas asked and Hermione frowned, suddenly annoyed.

“The sneak?”

“Yes, well…about that,” Atlas began, casting a furtive glance over Cho’s way, one that Hermione followed, frowning even deeper, “do you think you could give the counter jinx to Poppy?”

“You’re barking!” Ron spluttered, chewed up bits of bread and ham flying from his mouth onto the table, Atlas grimaced and tossed him a napkin while Hermione continued to study Atlas’s expression. “She snitched, we don’t have the DA anymore because of her.”

“She was scared,” Atlas reasoned and then sighed, turning back to Hermione, “what she did was stupid and it put us all in danger but…Mi, she doesn’t deserve to get branded as a sneak for the rest of her life because she made a mistake when she was younger.”

“That’s your opinion,” Ron said, crossing his arms with a glare, “she put everyone who has family in the Ministry in danger, she deserves to be called a sneak.”

“You’re right, you are…but everyone already hates her right now, do we really need to pour salt into her open wounds?” Atlas asked, sort of imploring actually. She didn’t like it, not at all, what Marietta had done endangered all of them but Cho had had a point, the way things were going, Marietta would have sneak plastered across her face for the rest of her life, a permanent brand upon her skin. Nobody deserved that over a silly mistake they’d made when they were a kid.

“All right,” Hermione nodded slowly and while Atlas beamed, Ron, soured.

“You can’t be serious!” Ron huffed, his frustration understandable.

“Atlas is right, Ron. Everybody hates Marietta now,” Hermione muttered but furrowed her brows, turning back to Atlas, “tell Cho she should have just asked me herself instead of hiding behind you.”

“I don’t think she was hiding, why would she do that?” Atlas said, tilting her head to the side, “I mean, you’re really scary sometimes I suppose.”

“She knew I wouldn’t be able to say no to you,” Hermione huffed and then frowned again, “and if she had asked me, I would have said no, which is honestly, what I want to say, hence why I’m saying she should have asked.”

“So Marietta would stay a public sneak for the rest of her life?” Atlas asked.

“Exactly,” Hermione said and stood gathering her things.

“Where are you going?”

“To begrudgingly give Poppy the counter jinx,” Hermione muttered and she clearly disliked the idea, the distaste in her gaze when she looked over at Cho palpable. However, before she could leave, the very earth shook beneath their feet and everyone standing slipped sideways, clutching whatever they could to keep themselves upright.

For Katie and Angelina, it had been the dinner table, for a few Ravenclaws it had been their benches, for a very small Hufflepuff girl, she’d clutched a Slytherin’s robes and for Hermione, who had stood moments before the sudden quake with her arms full, it had been the books clutched to her chest which didn’t do anything to keep her upright. So Atlas steadied the girl quickly, taking the girl by the waist and pulling her back atop the bench, eyes wide.

Screams sounded around the Great Hall, some echoing from some lost hallway or corridor just beyond the entrance, dust fell from the high ceilings and Atlas sneezed, shaking her head and blinking rapidly and then the most bizarre thing happened. The hall, lit by the light streaming through the windows and the candles above became suddenly colourful, loud crackles and pops sounding overhead as fireworks — yes, fireworks — exploded in the air.

Awed, Atlas watched, captivated by the large Chinese Dragons meandering through the air, formed entirely of red and gold flecks of fire; the green wheels that fizzled out only to pop and produce another two in its ash; and a dozen regular fireworks that exploded into a thousand specks of multicoloured sparks. And they grew and grew in number, with every explosion another ten — at least — appeared and followed in its progenitors’ footsteps.

The hall, once full of screams that echoed only fear, now told of amusement and joy, unfiltered euphoria. Atlas ducked as one of the dragons belched a flame that narrowly missed the top of her head and then sat straight again, looking upon Hermione who had been following the trajectory of the dragon only to rest her eyes on Atlas. The colours glistened in the girl’s eyes and Atlas felt as if she were being pulled in and though she did not move, did not incline, Hermione seemed to be coming closer and closer. It was her imagination, surely, in the magic of the moment, she was seeing something from her mind.

Surely. Surely.

A firework snapped in front of Atlas’s face and she groaned, the strong smell of smoke practically smothering her as she coughed and looked at the small fireworks popping before her with a grimace. Just beyond them Hermione had turned away and watched as another dragon joined the other two gliding around the place. Yeah, it seemed it really had been her imagination.

“Mum is going to behead them,” Ron whispered but when Atlas looked over at him she noticed the absolute breathless look upon his face, the admiration and awe he felt for his older brothers and Atlas found herself nodding, feeling the absolute same.

“Not unless Umbridge does it first…” Atlas found herself saying as she swiped away another cluster of mini fireworks, smiling again. “They’re so dead.”

“More like expelled,” Ron grinned and motioned over to Hermione, the girl very focussed on a group of golden sparks. “Some say it’s worse than death.”

The fireworks spread like the plague, infecting every corridor, every room and open hall all over the school for the rest of that afternoon and though they caused heavy disruption, so much so Atlas was really starting to get a migraine, the professors were not at all perturbed, instead, they insisted the students got on with whatever they liked whilst pulling Umbridge from one side of the school to the other, complaining about the fireworks.

Though Atlas could have sworn she saw Flitwick performing a Vanishing charm or two, multiplying each firework by ten a few times and she had definitely seen Sprout petting one of the dragons rather oddly and sending it on its merry way. Even Minerva had caused her fair share of mischief, tripling one of the dragons in size discretely as she continued with an inconsequential lecture that nobody really listened to.

And that night they partied — oh they partied — with Umbridge running around Hogwarts she didn’t have time to police them on it and neither did her little squad of snakes who had been ordered to help her halfway through the day. Fred and George were obviously the heroes of the night, their bodies paraded around the room over heads as they got out their latest sales pitch. People from other houses came and it was as if the Gryffindor Common room had been transformed into some safe place, where nobody obeyed any of Umbridge’s decrees and in fact, seemed to purposely break them.

They were riding a high none of them wanted to come down from and it was really something. Atlas sat in the corner of the room, cradling a Firewhisky while Hermione had run off to congratulate Fred and George and seeing as though Harry and Ron were talking to Lavender and Parvati about something very secretively, Atlas did not want to bother them. Hence the isolation. But she was happy to stay off to the side, afraid someone might jog her accidentally if she joined the dance circle and to be honest, she was tired, thrilled and ecstatic but so very tired.

Considering she didn’t get very much sleep, Atlas thought she was doing well simply being awake.

With a sigh, she downed the rest of her bottle and tossed it into the bin a few paces away, rubbing at her eyes. Her body ached for her bed but she wanted to watch the celebrations for just a moment longer, a small smile on her face that grew the slightest bit wider when Hermione came waltzing back over, a new bottle of butterbeer in hand. There was a tint to her cheeks and a loud huff from her mouth when she sat, elbows to her knees and chin cradled atop her palms.

“Think you should slow down, Hermione,” Atlas said, looking upon the girl fondly but Hermione ignored her and held the bottle to Atlas’s mouth expectantly, “what?”

“Open it.”

“Oh…” Atlas looked at her quietly a moment before leaning forward, amused. She took the cap between her teeth and Hermione watched her every movement, her eyes remaining undeterred upon Atlas’s mouth as she bit off the cap.

“Mmm, that’s bad for your teeth,” Hermione muttered and pulled the bottle away, taking a long sip. “My parents would cringe.”

“If I chipped my tooth or damaged my gums, I could fix it,” Atlas commented and smiled, “I lost a lot of teeth growing up so I’d know.”

“So, you’ve always found yourself in trouble…” Hermione said and it was more of a statement than anything so Atlas treated it as such and nodded. “Now I know why your smile is perfect despite all the sugary crap you eat. Your teeth are magic.”

“Not all of them,” Atlas huffed and moved to lean back, grimacing slightly at the action. It didn’t go unnoticed, even in Hermione’s state, she was as observant as ever.

“Who helped you?” She asked quietly, swirling her bottle around and Atlas almost didn’t hear her over the noise of the Commons. Almost.

“Daphne,” Atlas told, seeing no use in lying but Hermione didn’t react, it seemed like she’d expected it. “She and Pansy knocked on Umbridge’s door when it happen, they saw it…Umbridge told Daphne to take me back here but she took me to the kitchens, I — I asked her to help me dress it.”

“Did she do a good job?”

“I think so…the paste I had her use stops infections and such, brands are notorious for –“

“Brands?” Hermione said very suddenly and Atlas realised her slip, her gaze slowly falling upon Hermione who had stopped swirling her drink and had instead stopped to stare at it. “She branded you?”

“It’ll heal.”

“It’ll scar.”

“Maybe,” Atlas nodded, frowning. She sighed and shuffled closer, nudging Hermione lightly. “Don’t look so sad, Daphne helped me, she really did…she’s — she’s all right you know? I’d say she was sort of…nice. And because of her, it’s healing fine.”

“You didn’t sleep,” Hermione commented and Atlas nodded. “It hurt?”

“Well, yeah,” Atlas nodded again.

“Are you hurting now?”

“A little,” Atlas offered quietly and Hermione fell against her side gently, dropping her head against the girl’s arm.

“I wish you weren’t hurting.”

“Alcohol makes you very soft,” Atlas whispered but Hermione did not respond, “it’s not a bad thing…you’re just usually very angry.”

“Only because I worry,” Hermione retorted though without any bite.

“I know,” Atlas hummed, reaching down to the pack by her feet to grab another Firewhisky. “Want some?”

“Didn’t you just say I should stop?” Hermione asked, quirking a brow as she reached out for it anyway. Atlas shrugged.

“I want to see you taste it,” Atlas said. Hermione smirked, she smirked and took the bottle from Atlas’s hand and as she took a very large gulp, kept her eyes firmly upon her. Atlas watched, jaw aching from how she clenched it.

By Merlin, this girl would be the death of her.

Hermione pulled the bottle from her lips and hummed at the taste, licking her lips. “Very nice,” she held it out to her and Atlas took it, eyeing the lip for a very long while before she took a swig of her own.

“I take it you’ve had it before then?” Atlas asked and when Hermione nodded, seemingly pleased with herself, Atlas huffed, grinning crookedly, “well that’s no fun…”

“What’s going on over here then?” Katie grinned, Angelina, Alicia and Leanne following after her, they were all, sans Angelina, very clearly intoxicated. Atlas leant away and set her bottle down, wincing only slightly when Katie sat in her lap and hooked her arm around the girl’s shoulder, Leanne sitting on the arm of the sofa just behind to fiddle with her girlfriend’s hair. Angelina helped a very dazed looking Alicia to the floor and sat behind her, looking exhausted. “I see Atlas has hoarded all of the Firewhisky to herself.”

“Guilty,” Atlas nodded, throwing her hands up as Katie laughed against her cheek.

“You know, Atlas, Leanne and I are seriously looking for a third,” Katie smirked and Atlas looked at her, shaking her head with a grin as she bent down to retrieve her bottle, “she has a dorm to herself if you’re interested?”

“Katie!” Leanne giggled and looked to Atlas, “don’t mind her, she’s been asking everyone.”

“I’m hurt,” Atlas said very seriously as she clutched her chest. “Why wasn’t I asked first?”

Katie laughed, she fully belly laughed and almost toppled backwards, “Hey, the offer has always been on the table.”

“Ah well, unfortunately, I’m out of commission,” Atlas said, taking another sip of her drink, “I’ve recently received an injury, don’t think I’ll be able to do anything too physical for a while.”

“That’s fine we can play Healers, tend to your wounds,” Katie grinned and Atlas quirked a brow, she moved to respond but found her words short as her attention was drawn to the sudden tug of the bottle in her hand and then its absence. Hermione had snatched it away and swallowed a quarter of its contents, scrunching up her face at the burn. “Or not…” Katie murmured a moment later and then grinned again, eyes full of mirth as she looked upon Hermione. She was glaring at her. “Seems I might’ve taken it too far this time.”

“That so?” Atlas mused, distracted by the now-empty crate of Firewhisky.

“Well, it’s been nice,” Katie sang and stood, gripping Leanne’s hand, “but Anne and I are gonna finish some unfinished business.”

“You’re making me jealous,” Atlas whistled and waved as Katie laughed and dragged Leanne away, leaving them to the company of Angelina and Alicia. “You two all right?”

“No, I feel like out of everyone on the team I should be the one drinking,” Angelina groaned, sitting on the sofa when Hermione inched closer to Atlas, still cradling that bottle of Firewhisky. “It’s a mess without you, Harry and The Twins. Plus it’s my final year and my only year as Team Captain, I really want to win but the team sucks.”

“Ouch,” Atlas offered and gave the girl a sympathetic smile, “well…maybe you should? Grab a Butterbeer and go crazy.”

“I would, honestly, but I have to be up bright and early to go through new formations,” Angelina sighed and Alicia hiccoughed, tilting so that she fell to the floor with her eyes closed. Angelina looked at her for a long moment before snatching the bottle from Hermione and downing what remained. “Fuck it.”

“Atta girl,” Atlas winked.

“Ok, will someone explain to me why Katie just asked if I wanted to third?” Atlas and Angelina looked up, Alicia on the brink of unconsciousness while Hermione pressed her back against Atlas’s side and looked across the room dazedly. Harry was there, flushed in the face.

“She likes to piss about,” Atlas offered vaguely.

“Noted…” he whispered and then Atlas grinned.

“What did you say?”

“What?”

“Did you agree?”

“If I’d agreed I wouldn’t be here,” Harry huffed and picked up Hermione’s legs to sit underneath them. “Are they in an open relationship or something?”

“Oh, no way,” Angelina said, pointing the bottle at him, “Katie is absolutely smitten with Leanne and vice versa. It’s just as Atlas said, Katie, likes to piss about, as soon as someone seriously accepts she backs off and reveals it’s a joke. I swear, in the beginning, she used to do it to wind Leanne up, she’d come back later looking like an idiot.”

“Meaning?”

Before Angelina could say anything Atlas shook her head, motioning for her to not, “you don’t want to know Harry.”

“But I asked?”

“So take it back,” Atlas said and yawned. “What did Umbridge want from you earlier?”

“She just asked if I knew where Dumbledore was, same with Snuffles,” Harry murmured and stretched, yawning as well. That set off a chain of events and soon everyone was yawning, even an unconscious Alicia. “I need to sleep.”

“Same,” Atlas muttered, staring at the ceiling now, “what did you say?”

“Said I didn’t know where they were obviously,” Harry said and frowned, “where do you think he is? Dumbledore I mean.”

“Don’t know but he’s waiting somewhere, for an opening I suppose,” Atlas offered vaguely, “one thing is for sure, Umbridge can’t stay Headmistress forever.”

“She won’t,” Atlas startled at the voice, glancing at Hermione who had stopped glaring at the wall as if it had personally insulted her family. “You can count on it.”

“…remember what I said, Mi. Don’t do anything stupid,” Atlas muttered and Hermione rolled her eyes, sitting up.

“When have I ever done something stupid?”

“You probably have but I can’t really think of anything off of the top of my head,” Atlas smiled and scrunched up her face when Hermione pushed at it. “Oh, actually, drinking tonight is definitely stupid, you’ll have such a bad hangover tomorrow morning and I’m not helping you.”

“You’re half the reason I drank so much, prick,” Hermione snapped as Harry stifled a laugh, “besides, it won’t hit if I drink my weight in water.”

Hermione Granger experienced the worst mind splitting headache the very next morning. And contrary to her claim, Atlas Magianima did indeed spend the entire day taking care of her.