Chapter 120

Rain toiled within clouds above, threatening to fall upon London and those that walked the streets, it was dark, shady sidestreets once light enough to brave were now dingy and pitch, Atlas watched the buildings go by, her gaze bored and trailing across old homes as Ron continued to stretch his legs out in front of him. He knocked her leg, once twice, and on the third time, Hermione reached over to smack his ankle, shooting him a warning glare that Atlas grinned at, quietly and to herself. 

It was an awful day to shop but time was increasingly of the essence, the streets were getting more and more dangerous as the weeks dragged on, at least they had an envoy, their specially sent Ministry car driving them the whole way there, Arthur said they’d be meeting up with additional security, it was something Atlas had insisted upon and with the state of London, she was glad she did. 

Soon, they rolled up to the Leaky Cauldron and Atlas found herself smiling softly, getting out of the car to greet the great big hulking man known only as Rubeus Hagrid, she was pulled into a brief hug as soon as her foot had found pavement, a startled oomph forcefully expelling from her lungs at the contact, she was let go before she could really reciprocate as Hagrid moved on to Hermione, then to Ron and finally to Harry, the boy the last to leave the car.

“How’s Buckbeak, Hagrid?” Atlas asked and he laughed joyfully.

“Buckbeak — Witherwings, I mean — yeh should see him, Atlas, he’s so happy ter be back in the open air!” Hagrid boomed loudly as he let go of Harry, the boy massaging his ribs.

“That’s good then,” Atlas nodded, tucking her hands in her jacket pockets.

“We didn’t know ‘security’ meant you!” Harry then said, grinning, eager to converse with the man. Atlas huffed and rolled her eyes lightheartedly, glancing at Hermione and taking her hand. Hermione obliged without real protest but cast the group one fleeting glance before fully following Atlas. The girl led them into the Leaky Cauldron and over to the bar. It was empty, depressingly so and despite the landlord’s apparent attempts to keep it all clean, a thick layer of dust had settled over some of the bottles behind him and the spots beneath the tables seemed murky with idleness. That and his evident excitement upon seeing their two faces, he appeared incredibly hopeful.

“Could I get two butterbeers to go?” Atlas asked, holding up her two fingers. The barkeep seemed disheartened at the ‘to-go’, however, he obliged and reached around for two butterbeer, nodding gratefully when Atlas slid him the coins. The others soon came in and Atlas spared them a single glance before turning back to Hermione with a wink, “You come here often?”

Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes, covering her mouth slightly as she cradled her own Butterbeer, Atlas went to follow up but found herself dragged from the bar, tumbling to her feet from the stool as Ginny dragged her along.

“Now is so not the time to woman up,” Ginny muttered only to her as Atlas freed herself from the girl’s clutches and huffed.

“That’s not what I was doing.”

“Sure, come on Hermione!” Ginny called and Atlas stopped to wait for Hermione, sharing a look with her and an exasperated shake of her head, “Don’t shake your head at me.”

“Did Moody teach you how he sees from the back of his head or something?” Atlas muttered as Hermione smiled slightly, endeared by the interaction.

The conversation lulled out and the girls found themselves back in the middle of the group, Hagrid at the head guiding them through the motions of the secret brick wall and further into Diagon Alley, a place Atlas had only ever been a handful of times, if ever, as she couldn’t remember what she would have gone there for. Even still, she knew, despite not visiting Diagon Alley, that it was vastly different from how it would usually be. Most shops that lined the streets were empty, newspaper clippings plastered across windows to hide their innards, all moving, creating a sickly thing to look at, a mish-mash of faces, all contorted oddly and grimly. Depictions of the escaped Death Eaters, of course.

Atlas turned away when she spotted a portrait of Kushaal.

She instead eyed the pop-up stalls and their wares, a dubious look on her face as she glanced over the effects and potential protective charms that would protect the wearer from maybe a fly if anything at all. There was one man, a wizard who waved around lengths and lengths of chains. 

“One for your little girl, madam?” he called out to Molly as they passed and Atlas hurried forward, growing furrier and furrier as she grew nearer, “protect her pretty neck –?”

A guttural growl ripped from the throat of the head that sat over Ginny’s shoulder, a great big hulking mass shadowing a good three stalls from any licks of sunlight, smoke fell from Atlas’s fur, muzzle warped in rage as her eyes flashed dangerously. A hand came and rested against her neck and she stopped her noise, licking her chops once before glancing at Ginny, the girl grinning at her. Atlas stared a moment before shifting back, cracking her neck to the side at the sudden shift before glancing back at the vendor. She smelt a pungent odour in the air and grimaced, noticing the darkening patch around the man’s thighs.

“Don’t go mauling anyone now,” Ginny muttered and Atlas rolled her eyes, glancing over to the rest of the group who had stopped to stare, Harry and Ron were slack-jawed, and Arthur was giving her an appraising look while Molly was still as restless as ever. Hagrid was still yammering on about the latest news ahead.

“While that was an impressive display, dear, we’re in a hurry,” Molly said, looking around fretfully, as she glanced down at her list, “I think we’d better do Madam Malkin’s first, Hermione wants new dress robes, and Ron’s showing much too much ankle in his school robes, and Harry must need new ones too, he’s grown so much…come on, everyone…”

“Molly, it doesn’t make sense for all of us to go to Madam Malkin’s,” Arthur said, “Why don’t those three go with Hagrid and Atlas, and we can go to Flourish and Blotts and get everyone’s school books?”

The decision to separate Atlas from the three and instead regard her in the same way Arthur regarded Hagrid stuck with Atlas for some explicable reason, it seemed she was not seen as one who needed protection and was rather seen as another guard. Is that why Dumbledore had only sent Hagrid? Because the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione would already be in the care of Atlas? Was that observation too self-indulgent, to suggest, that the three versus her were in different playing fields? Despite that, wasn’t she hunted too? Wasn’t she wanted dead? Atlas wondered if it would be too childish to be hurt by the implication there was no effort made to protect her as well.

Yes. She decided. She was being silly.

Unknowingly, she had been dragged along in amid her pondering, the five of them walking down to Madam Malkin’s in their tightly-knit group. Somehow her hand had ended up in Hermione’s again but she didn’t question it, instead hurrying to walk into step with the girl, giving the hand in her own a gentle squeeze.

“Migh’ be a bit of a squeeze in there with all o’ us,” Hagrid observed, stopping outside Madam Malkin’s and bending down to peer through the window. “I’ll stand guard outside, all righ’?”

Hermione went to pull Atlas along but the girl glanced up at Hagrid, “want me to keep you company?”

“Nah, yer alrigh’, Atlas,” Hagrid grinned, hurrying her along with a large hand. Atlas nodded and followed Hermione inside, she slightly ducked under the welcome sign hung in the doorway and reached back so that the door wouldn’t slam shut behind her as she glanced around, admiring the walls of iridescent fabrics, interesting patterns and plain sheets.

Her admiration quickly became short-lived as a high-pitched voice barely through the throes of puberty sounded through the shop, Atlas scowled as she caught sight of Draco Malfoy in the mirror he was positioned before. Their eyes caught and he sneered, looking at the three that surrounded her before glancing somewhere next to him.

“If you’re wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in,” Draco announced and Hermione wrapped her hand around Atlas’s wand hand, reaching out to grab Harry’s robes when they two plus Ron, moved for their wands.

“There’s no need for language like that!” Madam Malkin said, scurrying around the boy to look at the four new faces in her shop.  “And I don’t want wands drawn in my shop either!”

“Don’t, honestly, it’s not worth it,” Hermione whispered urgently as Draco seemed to snort.

“Yeah, as if you’d dare do magic out of school,” he sneered and Atlas’s grip tightened. “Who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers.”

“That’s quite enough!” Madam Malkin shrieked sharply, looking over her shoulder for support. “Madam — please–“

Narcissa Malfoy strolled out from behind the clothes rack and Atlas frowned.

“Put those away,” she said coldly, her eyes slowly drifting over the four. “If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever –“

Her words stopped short, clutched in the depths of her throat as her eyes ever so slightly widened and her stoney facade ever so slightly wavered, Mrs Malfoy’s eyes had landed upon Atlas, a distant sheen falling over them as her mouth clamped shut and she reached up to her neck, touching the rope of what appeared to be a concealed necklace.

“The last thing we ever what?” Atlas questioned, her glare cold as she looked upon the woman, a spitting image of Bellatrix, though platinum blonde and neater, more attractive in a way. Hermione stepped slightly forward, holding Atlas’s hand once more and hugging it to her chest somewhat protectively. Mrs Malfoy seemed to take notice, an odd expression passing over her face.

“Careful mother, she’s got fleas,” Draco commented snidely and Mrs Malfoy seemed to gather herself, straightening and clearing her throat, her face was suddenly quite pale, paler than it had been as if she had seen a ghost.

“That’ll be all Draco, we’ll be leaving now,” Mrs Malfoy announced and Draco harumphed, tossing the robes he wore to the ground at Madam Malkin’s feet, “now I know the kind of…people that shops here…We’ll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting’s.”

Draco walked ahead, banging into Ron as hard as he could while Mrs Malfoy followed, her eyes ahead, momentarily flickering to Atlas for but a second before blinking uncomfortably and returning forward. Their departure was made known by the loud bang of the door but Atlas did not so much as flinch, her expression pulled up in confusion as the image of Narcissa’s eyes flashed in the back of her mind, some regret, some guilt, some sadness. Solemn and grieving.

“…wondering if you were getting robes? Atlas?” Hermione tugged at her hand, pulling her back to reality, “are you all right? You didn’t let what Draco said get to you, did you? I for one know you don’t have fleas and that your fur is very well kept.”

She was grinning, mischievous with eyes twinkling, Atlas scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Of course it didn’t.”

“All right well, I asked if you were getting your robes here?” Hermione continued and Atlas shook her head.

“No, Minnie got them already, they’re at the school,” Atlas told and Hermione nodded at her answer, turning to get her robes fitted before the boys had their new trousers tailored. 

And while they did that, Atlas looked around the store, eyeing the outfits ready-made and fabrics that cascaded in waves, she took a liking to a few casual shirts and made a note of them, looking through ties and bows as she did. She didn’t want to be caught off guard like last time, the time she’d had to borrow clothes from Zasha for the Yule Ball. The thought of her friend made her frown but she soon smiled again at the hope she’d one day be able to peruse shops like this beside the girl.

An arm curled around her, and she glanced down to confirm that it was indeed Hermione, the girl holding a hefty-looking bag. “Done?”

“Yeah, Madam Malkin is just wrapping up Harry’s robes,” Hermione informed, tucking her purse away in one of the many pockets of her jacket, it was a very practical thing to have but Atlas did wonder what the girl carried in each one and how she kept track of what each one carried.

Before they left Atlas asked Madam Malkin about the shirts and left the woman her measurements for her to make the correct alterations, smiling as she handed over the address the owl should send them to.

Hagrid was outside chatting to Harry and Ron when she and Hermione finally left, Molly, Arthur and Ginny had joined them also, all clutching heavy bags of books. Atlas took Ginny’s bags with a grin when the girl let out a dramatic sigh and slumped over, her face pulled down in mock exhaustion. She idly peeked inside, eyes roaming over the books and taking in their titles, strangely, she was sort of eager to get back to Hogwarts, with Umbridge gone, Slughorn joining and Minerva in full health, the year wasn’t off to a horrific start as it had been the past few. That was if one chose to ignore the rising threat of the Death Eaters and Voldemort.

And Atlas did choose to ignore it, at least for now.

Reunited again, the group walked away from Madam Malkins and headed for their next stop, the Apothecary where they’d be getting their Potion Ingredients for the year, as neither Ron nor Harry had made the grades needed to study Potions at N.E.W.T level, only Atlas, Hermione and Ginny went inside, the rest popping in Eeylops next door.

“Do you reckon you could help me with my Potions stuff this year, Atlas?” Ginny asked picking up a packet of Moonstone from a row of ingredients that were alphabetically ordered. A lot of the shelves were in a similar manner, pilled high with exotic ingredients, all interesting in their own right. Some looked interesting, some sounded interesting but most disgustingly most smelled interesting.

Atlas glanced up from the shelves of botanical products, her hand hovering over a multi-pack of an assortment of roots, “I…should be able to? I don’t see why not.”

“Sweet,” Ginny grinned, tossing three bags of Scurvy Grass into her basket. Hermione passed Atlas and rolled her eyes with a light smile, leaning around her to pick up a packet of Valerian Root and two packets of Ginger Root.

“The multi-pack contains three types of root we won’t be using this year,” Hermione told wisely and Atlas glanced at the packet she held, brows furrowing.

“But it’s cheaper,” Atlas shrugged.

“Atlas you’re loaded, it doesn’t matter,” Ginny called from somewhere deep in the store, Atlas heard a low ‘oh!’ followed by the clattering of jars as she seemed to find an item on her list. Atlas glanced back at her own and moved on, keeping the multi-pack of roots.

“Hermione?” Atlas said, shuffling through a drawer of jars and reading the label on each cap. Hermione hummed in answer, her lips sucked inward as she concentrated on measuring out 500 grams of Snake Fangs. “Did you notice how Malfoy’s mum acted when she saw me?”

“She seemed shaken,” Hermione said, placing the brown paper bag in her basket and turning to her, leaning her hip against a table of herbs, the containers tinkled together gently, a few of them letting out ghostly hisses that neither girl paid much mind to. Atlas found her Sloth Brain and placed it in her basket, turning to Hermione with a look of confusion across her face.

“Yeah but why? She’s never met me before? Do you…think it’s ’cause of what I did back then?” Atlas asked, rubbing the corner of her jacket anxiously between her thumb and forefinger, she didn’t understand why she felt so conflicted by Mrs Malfoy potentially being afraid of her.

“Maybe…” Hermione offered, her brows upturning as she offered Atlas a small smile, reaching out to tug on the fabric of her sleeve, “But don’t think too hard about it. Who cares what she thinks? Besides, maybe it’s because of your mum, they were in a similar year, right? What if they were sworn enemies?” She said in a way that seemed mocking as she grinned and rounded on the same drawer Atlas had been at picking out her own Sloth Brain considerably quicker. “Perhaps it was like seeing a ghost.”

“I’m not that pale anymore,” Atlas joked and Hermione reached up, cupping her cheek and turning her head this way and that, she examined her in silence and Atlas let her, simply looking at Hermione quietly as she felt her cheeks squish up, it made her scars itch a little. “What’s the verdict, dear Healer?”

“I think –“

“– you two should get a room,” Atlas glanced over at the interruption and found Ginny leaning against the doorway of the second larger room, she was looking at the two through a jar of a dozen pickled lamb hooves.

“You’re funny, Ginny,” Atlas said as Hermione pulled her hands away and picked out a pouch of Scarab Beetles from behind her, she plopped a second pouch in Atlas’s basket and moved on to collect other ingredients. With Hermione’s back turned Atlas shot Ginny a frustrated look to which Ginny grinned and put the lamb jar down.

They each collected all of the ingredients they needed and Atlas paid quickly before either girl could protest, grinning and jogging slightly ahead when Hermione went to hit her head with a flier she’d quickly asked the shopkeep if she could borrow. She bumped into Hagrid on her way out and hid behind him inconspicuously, Hermione glowering at her with her arms crossed but bags still firmly in her grasp.

“I’ll take yer bags back to the car shall I?” Hagrid smiled, holding out his hands.

“Oh Hagrid you really mustn’t leave us,” Molly said fretfully but Arthur stepped up and shook his head.

“It’ll be all right Molly, dear. Let’s pop into Fred and George’s shop,” he coaxed and both Ron and Harry cheered, grinning at the idea while Hermione and Ginny shared smiles, Atlas simply listened and nodded slightly along. She wanted to see what those two troublemakers had made for themselves.

“Well…we really haven’t got too long,” Molly said looking concerned. “So we’ll just have a quick look around and then back to the car.”

Hagrid left with the bags and the group meandered up the high street, walking in search of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, the joke shop run by Fred and George. Molly was muttering to herself about the directions and all the others were simply chattering excitedly, they almost didn’t notice until they were right under the bright orange shop sign. Atlas looked up in awe, lightly hitting Harry beside her who was blindly hitting her back just the same.

Compared to the shops surrounding it, the joke shop was practically a firework in the night sky, brightly coloured and purposefully obtuse, sticking out like a sore thumb with purposefully profound posters splattered across windows, none of the Wanted crap that lined the other shop windows. It seemed timeless, stuck in an era before the Death Eaters’ reign, completely untouched by the outside world. Atlas grinned but couldn’t help but feel a certain unease, Fred and George clearly showed no signs of fear or intimidation, the Death Eaters and their effects on the general populace were useless here.

They wouldn’t like that.

Atlas staggered when Ron clapped her on the back and ran inside with a large child-like grin, Harry quickly followed after him and their faces calmed her mind, a small smile worming its way across her face. She went in after them, Hermione and Ginny by her side while Molly and Arthur hung around the front of the shop together.

If the outside was any indication of the strange nature of the shop, the inside truly encapsulated all that the wizarding world was not, it was packed, full of life and laughter, smiling faces and carefree candidness. People fought over simple things, laughing joyfully as each lunged for specific products, they argued but ultimately walked away satisfied and happy. While the others marvelled at the products, Atlas couldn’t help but smile at the community, she only idly looked at merchandise, most of her attention on the people within and only really snapped from her stupor when she noticed some fresh-faced little girl who looked to be a new first-year eagerly staring at the wad of Nosebleed Nougat in her hand. It seems she’d picked up the last lot on accident.

“Here, I don’t need it,” Atlas says, holding it out to her. The girl looked hesitant, “trust me, I don’t need some nougat to give myself a nosebleed.”

The girl nodded and took it with a smile, running off and disappearing somewhere deep in the crowd, Atlas turned and decided to find Hermione, slipping through the throngs of people and eventually finding her near an array of violently pink products that was threatening to give Atlas a violent slap across the cheek. She winced at the colour and giggling school girls all wrapped around the stand of what appeared to be knock-off Love Potions.

“These have to be illegal,” Atlas muttered and was startled when a hand clapped her shoulder.

“Say the word and we’ll take them off the shelves,” one of the twins announced, on closer inspection of the nose of this twin, Atlas rolled her eyes at Fred and shook her head. “I’m serious!”

“Then take them off the shelves,” Atlas said, her brow quirked, Fred laughed and nodded.

“As soon as this batch sells,” he grinned.

“But –“

“It won’t take long, dear investor,” George joined, hooking his arm over her shoulder as he gestured to the crowd of girls, “and besides it seems your little girlfriend is also interested,” he teased and Atlas followed his arm to see Hermione picking up one of the bottles.

“She’s not buying one,” Atlas muttered and Fred grinned.

“Let me go offer her a deal and see what she –” Before he could finish his sentence Atlas had slipped out from under his arm and walked over to Hermione, standing beside her and leaning over her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” she asked and Hermione jerked, dropping the bottle to the floor where it shattered into the wood, a few of the other girls around the comically pink fountain of potion shot her dirty looks and turned away to buy their chosen product, all the while Atlas remained to stare at the side of Hermione’s face. “You…interested in this?”

“No, love potion love is fabricated love, someone would have to be incredibly desperate and morally dubious to use one of these,” Hermione said and Atlas grinned when she noticed a girl slowly put the potion back and walk away with her head down. “And I’m not desperate.”

“No?” Atlas said.

“No,” Hermione said and nudged Atlas’s stomach with the back of her hand. “I’m offended you even thought I’d entertain the idea of buying one.”

“I’m truly sorry,” Atlas nodded, holding up her hands, she grinned and leaned slightly closer, “I see you got the paste from Fred and George, the bruise is clearing up nice, you don’t look like a pretty panda anymore.”

“Pretty, huh?” Hermione smirked and Atlas went a tad wide-eyed, leaning against one of the shelves.

“Yeah, pretty. Why? Were you expecting something more?” Atlas mused, quirking a brow with a lopsided smile, “Like beautiful, stunning, gorgeous? Maybe some French? Parfaite, attirante, magnifique?”

“Flirting in front of the Love Potion display boosts sales, you know?” Fred said, sauntering up to the two and hooking his arm around Hermione’s shoulder while George crossed his arms and leaned against the shelf beside Atlas.

“Think you’ve tested too many products on yourselves, boys,” Hermione said, shaking her head and stepping out from underneath Fred’s arm. “You’re delusional. Perhaps hearing things?”

Atlas grinned as she watched Hermione speak, the girl shooting the boy’s challenging looks. Fred and George looked at her with wide eyes before both laughing, grinning cheekily as they glanced at Atlas with raised brows. 

“Well then, she’s certainly turned a few leaves,” Fred commented but George shook his head, nudging his brother.

“Hermione’s always been a little feisty, Fred.”

Fred goes quiet for some time, Hermione now a few paces away reviewing some Patented Daydream Charms, Atlas had hung behind to hear what the twins were waffling about but was very nearly losing any interest she had in the stretch of silence. That was until Fred spoke again.

“…After some careful consideration, you’re right, George,” Fred finally said and really, waiting around really wasn’t worth it if that was all he was going to say. Atlas shook her head and turned to leave but George caught her wrist.

“Thought I should let you know, anything you want in here you can take, free of charge,” he said, smiling slightly and Atlas pulled her hand away, shaking her head.

“There’s no way I can do that, you boys worked so hard and I –“

“– gave us our starting funds, you and Harry. You don’t pay here,” Fred said firmly, his face serious before his trademark smile spread across his mouth, “just let us know what you take so we can take that into account during stock.”

“…all right,” Atlas muttered and the boys both nodded, turning their attentions to Ron who was walking through the shop with an armful of products. She returned to Hermione’s side and they toured the shop together, pointing out some really great pieces of magic, it was quite interesting, and the girls walked around the shop as if it were a museum more than anything. Atlas only grabbed a handful of Instant Darkness Powder from the darker part of the shop and that was all she really wanted, everything else was all very extraordinary, she, however, didn’t think she’d ever have any use for puking pastels, or ton-tongue taffy.

They were hanging around the Pygmy Puffs with Ginny, the girl convincing Atlas to take one to give her later seeing as though she can get stuff for free but Atlas didn’t feel right doing that to the generosity the twins were showing her, so instead she gave Ginny the money to pay for one. Of course, the stubborn git refused for a while before eventually, after much convincing, she accepted the galleons and picked out a Pygmy Puff to buy.

While she skipped away to find Verity, one of the only other workers in the shop, Atlas and Hermione played with the little critters.

“You gonna get one for your army?” Hermione casually questioned and Atlas looked at her, a brow raised as a pair of Pygmy Puffs ran across her shoulders and over her head. “You know…the little zoo you’ve made in our room.”

“What? Oh,” Atlas chuckled and shook her head, taking the Pygmy Puffs off and putting them back in their crates. “No, besides there’s not that many, Kalo and Little R barely stay for too long, my dragon doesn’t move anymore because the magic in her wore off and Crookshanks is yours.”

“Yes, however, you do sometimes bring creatures in under a brief tenancy,” Hermione hummed and Atlas shook her head, affronted in quite a dramatic way, “you definitely would have kept that Bowtruckle.”

“That’s one other creature,” Atlas huffed.

“You tried to steal one of Hagrid’s Nifflers.”

“…two other creatures,” Atlas muttered.

“Ok well, I think you count as a creature,” Hermione said and Atlas’s jaw dropped, her eyes wide as she laughed, shocked by Hermione’s declaration, “You’re you but you’re also an eavesdropping flea bag.”

“Hey, I thought you said my coat was clean earlier,” Atlas mused, her arms crossed.

“It’s called lying,” Hermione grinned. 

Before Atlas could retort she felt a presence beside her and stiffened, she glanced to her side only to see a vacant spot and yet she could feel warmth against her side. Immediately, she understood who it was and rolled her eyes, wordlessly taking Hermione’s hand and dragging her outside, all the while a strange invisible wall pushed through the crowd beside her.

“Atlas where are we going?” Hermione questioned as they neared the door, “We should really tell Molly and Arthur we’re leaving.”

“No, don’t,” Harry’s voice carried from beneath his cloak and Hermione startled, jumping a little before huffing exasperatedly and glaring at the space the boy occupied. She said nothing and followed the rest of the way in complacent silence. When they got outside, however, and away from the shop windows, she reached out and ripped the cloak off of Harry and, unsurprisingly, Ron.

“What the hell are you boys playing at?” She whisper shouted, “We really shouldn’t be –“

“We saw Malfoy go down Knockturn Alley and came to get you,” Harry interrupted and Atlas’s brows furrowed, Hermione falling quiet as she appeared to contemplate her next actions. “So come on, get under.”

“I am not gonna fit under that with you guys,” Atlas said, eyeing the now visible cloak with a dubious look. “I’ll follow you.”

“How do you expect to do that without getting caught?” Ron asked, not mockingly simply curious, his pale brow raised in question.

In answer, Atlas morphed into her Animagus, however, she was smaller, the same size as a hound rather than her usual hulking form, hard black bone-like ridges still ran down her spine but she looked considerably more dog-like rather than man-eating beast. The three stared down at her in shock, clearly not expecting the new development and she stared back, sitting with her head tilted slightly to the side.

She realised all at once that she had never told them of this development, however, also realised that she still couldn’t as she lacked the ability to communicate in her Animagus. And she didn’t really want to change back just yet, turning to this form was considerably more difficult and deliberate than her usual beastly take.

“Uh…okay then,” Ron muttered as Hermione walked around to slip under the cloak with them. They began walking, their ankles vulnerable as they walked, Atlas wandered around, following them as she acted like a stray dog. They slipped down side street upon side street, the putrid smells disorienting Atlas as she walked, close to the rotten ground for once, her nose hanging lower than ever. 

She quickly came to the conclusion that she despised her smaller form already, even with all its practicality.

Suddenly, the three before her started to run so Atlas quickly followed after them, her internal brows furrowing as she watched them climb up the side of…Borgin and Burkes? To settle over what looked to be a skylight that viewed the innards of the shop. Atlas quickly followed after them, pouncing up onto the ledge and shifting back to kneel beside where they lurked. They were eavesdropping using a pair of Extendable Ears.

“…you know how to fix it?” Malfoy’s voice rang, loud and with a slight crackle. Clearly, the ears hadn’t been tuned properly.

“Possibly,” the man said and Atlas wasn’t exactly sure if this man was Borgin or Burke, so she internally referred to him as slick due to the criminal amount of greasy that wet his hair. “I’ll need to see it, though. Why don’t you bring it into the shop?”

“I can’t,” Malfoy said and Atlas watched how his jaw tightened. “It’s got to stay put. I just need you to tell me how to do it.”

“Well, without seeing it,” Slick was nervous now, wringing his hands together as he looked at something just past Malfoy’s shoulder. “I must say it will be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I couldn’t guarantee anything.”

“No?” Malfoy said and his head tilted almost impercievably to the side. “Perhaps this will make you more confident.”

They watched as Malfoy moved closer to Slick, showing him something that was blocked by his body and a few stray cursed-looking vanitys, the four leaned to try and see to no avail but all of them saw how Slick’s face grew pale.

“Tell anyone,” Malfoy said, and it seemed as if he was talking through his teeth, “and there will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? He’s a family friend. He’ll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you’re giving the problem your full attention.”

“There will be no need for–“

“I’ll decide that,” Malfoy interrupted, ever the saint. “Well, I’d better be off. And don’t forget to keep that one safe, I’ll need it.”

“Perhaps you’d like to take it now?”

“No, of course, I wouldn’t, you stupid, little man, how would I look carrying that down the street? Just don’t sell it.”

“Of course not…sir.”

That struck Atlas as unnatural, anyone calling Malfoy sir and…bowing? She frowned, her face pulling up in contempt.

“Not a word to anyone, Borgin, and that includes my mother, understand?”

“Naturally, naturally,” murmured Slick, or well, Borgin. Atlas preferred Slick. A bell tinkled in the silence of the alley and suddenly Malfoy was gone, without a trace, Atlas hadn’t even seen him leave but that could very easily be because she was distracted with the internal dilemma over Slick and Borgin.

“What was that about?” Ron breathed as Hermione started to reel in the Ears. Atlas’s eyes were fixed on Borgin, the man looking worried, sweating like a rat caught in a trap.

“Dunno, he wants something mended….and he wants to reserve something in there…could you see what he pointed at when he said ‘that one’?” Harry murmured but Ron shook his head. Meanwhile Hermione had tossed the Extendable Ears back to Ron and was slowly trying to scale down the roof they had climbed.

Atlas, predictably startled, grabbed her wrist to stop her. “What are you doing?”

“You three stay here,” Hermione whispered but Atlas shook her head and pulled her up. 

“As if, what do you think you’re playing at?” Atlas hissed.

“I was going to see if Borgin would talk,” Hermione said and pulled her wrist free with a frown.

Atlas frowned, “no way in hell,” she snapped quietly before looking around.

“Someone has to find out what –“

“You guys stay here,” Atlas interrupted Hermione and jumped down off of the roof, landing with a dull thud as she walked away and down a side street. Hermione made to follow but Harry pulled her back as the three silently waited for Atlas to return and when she did it was in completely different attire.

Atlas had just robbed a clothing store down the street and she was pretty sure she was wearing the clothes of a dead Death Eater. It made her skin itch but desperate times, desperate measures. If it stopped Hermione from wandering into a shop clearly dedicated to the Dark Arts, she’d do just about anything.

She glanced up at the three who peered over the ledge, staring at her with wide eyes before she pulled the accompanying mask over her head and began walking towards Borgin and Burkes. Unsurprisingly, the mask smelt foul, some putrid stench clinging to it like burning flesh, she couldn’t help but wonder if the previous Death Eater who had once owned the robes had been a victim of spontaneous combustion. The thought made her slightly ill and the burns up her arm began to itch.

The bell tinkled overhead once more as she walked inside, Borgin, who had been leant over an old Bureau, cleaning it feverishly, turned and yelped, dropping his cloth as he shook. Atlas felt not a lick of remorse for the wizard but also couldn’t help but sympathise with his fear, the mask she wore was terrifying to anyone, even wizards of the Dark Arts like Borgin. 

She approached him slowly and deliberately, acutely aware of the three pairs of eyes pressed into her back. Borgin seemed to shrink on himself, the small and oily man becoming the size of rock under Atlas’s burning glare. She remained silent, which to Borgin seemed an intimidation tactic that was most certainly working, while to Atlas, it was simply her warming her voice, internally shaping it as she readied herself to speak.

“Borgin,” her voice rattled low, an animalistic timbre to her word. The man stood up a little straighter, shaking imperceivably, sweat slicking his upper brow. “Lucius Malfoy’s son, was he here?”

She knew the answer to her own question, of course.

“Yes ma’am,” Borgin answered quickly.

“And…what was he doing here?” Atlas asked, walking around the shop, she picked up a few pieces, never touching anything with her bare hands, and examined them. They were all labelled pricelessly and Borgin seemed to twitch every time she picked up something new, “Borgin?”

“I promised not to say, ma’am,” Borgin said, clearing his throat as he tried to remain composed but Atlas could see the snivelling rat within him and felt herself involuntarily scowl. He reminded her of Pettigrew for a split second, something bubbling under her flesh.

She dropped the priceless artefact to the floor and heard something hiss, a distant echo of a thousand souls drifting across the hardwood ground. Borgin’s hands shook as he made a noise of distress and rushed over to pick up the pieces, his momentary lapse of judgment causing him to cut up his hands, ceramic shards sticking out of his fingers. Atlas simply watched before moving on, looking around at the potential things Malfoy could have been talking about. She focused on the large objects, remembering Malfoy’s comment on potentially carrying something so large up the street.

It didn’t exactly help so she looked away, Borgin seemed to house many large pieces of furniture. She picked up another artefact and tossed it from hand to hand, It made a funny sound and beneath the mask, Atlas couldn’t help the grin. She realised though, that it was not the vase but Borgin making the quiet yelps of despair and the smile slipped from her face at her own reaction. 

“…you promised? So, your loyalty is to Draco Malfoy?” Atlas asked, balancing the vase on the tip of her finger.

“No, ma’am! My loyalty is to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!” Borgin announced loudly as he grovelled by his felled artefact. “The great Dark Lord!”

“So then tell me what the Malfoy boy was doing in your shop,” Atlas pressured again and some painful conflict flashed across his face. And Atlas could not understand what Malfoy had said that could possibly be just as horrifying as the possibility of disobeying Voldemort’s direct underling.

“I cannot,” Borgin said fearfully, his eyes wide as he began to slobber. Atlas watched him quietly before dropping the vase off her finger. Borgin scampered across the floor and cradled the remains in his palms, looking up at Atlas who stood and viewed the other priceless pottery. She pulled out her wand and in one swift movement, shattered a number of his display. She left a few priceless pieces and stared down at Borgin.

“Now?” She asked but he had simply broken down into a puddle of tears, cradling his face in bloodied palms. She sighed, a part of her annoyed as the man sobbed. It was clear, for some reason, that Borgin was loyal to Draco. It perplexed her. “You understand that I am under orders to follow the boy, yes? Regrettably, I let him slip away only to find him again coming out of your shop. So, what did you discuss Borgin? I’ll give you one final chance.”

But he was unresponsive, it seemed the loss of his products had caused him to go practically catatonic. The weakness of a businessman. She sneered and felt her grip around her wand tighten. Merlin, she hated such weak things, if one was to go to the dark side at least be good at it. To risk so much and come out at the bottom like this snivelling pig, surely was not worth it.

Atlas tucked her wand away, bubbling under her flesh returning as her short fuse burned ever shorter. Something pooled from her skin and spread across the floor, touching just the tip of Borgin’s finger. Even that had him screaming in anguish, his hands over his face as he cried and sobbed, he even puked, his stomach innards mingling with his blood and the ceramic shards in his flesh as he vomited into his palms.

Somewhere, there was a crash and Atlas snapped out of it, her chest heaving as the shadows around her vision faded and she looked up to see only Ron and Harry at the skylight, she spun around, looking for her favourite face and found Hermione behind her, in the shop surrounded by broken ceramic. Atlas panicked and felt the liquid sink back into her skin, she stared down at Borgin who was twitching on the floor before turning back to Hermione who was staring at her with wide eyes.

“What are you doing…?” She breathed, glancing down at Borgin and Atlas tensed, every cell of her body freezing as she too looked at the mess she had made. Her throat went dry and her throat bobbed.

“I…he wasn’t talking…” Atlas said, her own voice shaky. What had she done? “I…”

“Come on…quickly,” Hermione ushered, reaching out and grabbing Atlas’s wrist. She pulled the girl outside and it was only now Atlas registered the approaching commotion. It seems the noise from the shop had garnered the attention of those Dark witches and wizards that still roamed the alleys. Hermione avoided her eye as she pulled Atlas away, Ron and Harry quickly following, the invisibility cloak forgotten and tucked under the latter boy’s arm.

They slipped down an uninhabited alley and Hermione began to take the robes off of Atlas, sliding the mask off next to reveal Atlas underneath, her eyes red and tears marring her cheeks. She rubbed at them furiously and turned away, the Death Eater costume now crumpled on the floor as Harry, Ron and Hermione watched her quietly, all apprehensive in their own way. Ron looked a little scared, Harry the same with a hint of understanding while Hermione simply seemed worried, her hands shaking slightly as she reached to place a hand on Atlas’s upper arm.

“That was a bad idea,” Atlas murmured weakly and could not meet their eyes. 

“Atlas…” Hermione said, her words falling away as if she didn’t exactly know how to approach this startling situation.

“We need to go back,” Atlas said quietly, “Molly will be wondering where we are.”

“…Did Borgin tell you anything?”

Hermione seemed to throw Harry a dirty look at his question but Atlas didn’t care, she shook her head, “No…”

“Ok…” Harry nodded, looking at Atlas with down-turned eyes, some deep understanding between them at her outburst. “Let’s go…we can discuss it later.”

When they returned, Molly gave them all an earful, even as Harry and Ron tried to explain the lady had clearly just missed them on her search due to the massive crowd that housed the innards of the shop. All the while, Atlas stood still, her eyes glazed while Hermione silently intertwined her fingers with Atlas’s and laid her head against her shoulder, comforting her quietly.