Chapter 123

Care of Magical Creatures was still as dull and depressing as it had been the first time Atlas had arrived, Hagrid still just as sour, thumping around his pumpkin patch, crushing a few that Atlas had to repair as he gesticulated and almost with annoyance explained the proper diets of Diricrawls. The passion was lost in the man and Atlas deemed it a great struggle trying to keep her own enthusiasm when every lesson ended with the man slamming his hut door shut behind him to sulk. Even Buckbeak, whom Hagrid had stuck to calling Witherwings had sauntered off somewhere, leaving Atlas alone. 

In the beginning, Atlas felt sorry for him, the blow of losing three of his four favourite students who had still yet to come and visit him no doubt stung and Hagrid was naturally quite the soft soul who took everything to heart.

But honestly, enough was enough, Atlas hadn’t received any homework at all, she usually wouldn’t complain considering all the essays and books she already had to read but at least she’d be taking something away from these lessons aside from Hagrid’s frankly contagious depression. She’d snapped at Hermione just the other day when the girl had asked her a question about Ancient Runes and had felt so terrible she was half tempted to break another wizarding law and brew her a Liquid Luck on the spot without her Potion Master License. Hermione had been amicable about it and actually set her homework aside to cheer Atlas up but it was stupid, Hagrid’s sourness towards the three was causing a stupid amount of resentment to build in Atlas.

It was halfway through a lecture on Golden Snidget’s, which was more a textbook monologue than anything, when Atlas threw her notepad down and began to walk away, of course, this gave Hagrid pause and the man frowned as he called out and followed after her.

“Where are yeh goin’?” Hagrid said.

“I’m dropping the elective,” Atlas snapped, grabbing her cloak. Not even seeing Buckbeak every day was enough to convince her to stay at this point if things kept up. “If you’re not going to actually teach me anything I might as well use this slot to do homework.”

“But yeh can’t!” Hagrid seemed to panic, genuine terror seizing his heart.

“Then get over yourself!” Atlas very well knew talking to any other professor like this would result in several weekends of detention but this was Hagrid, timid Hagrid who wrang his hands together nervously, face dripping with regret. “I’m sorry the others didn’t choose the class and I’m sorry I’m the only one that did but Merlin’s beard, Hagrid! I haven’t learnt anything!”

“I’m sorry…I…” The man closed his mouth, swallowing as he licked his lips and sought something to say and then suddenly, he burst out into tears, startling Atlas so fiercely she took a very large step back. “I’ve bin a bit…distant but it ain’t jus’ because the others ain’t ‘ere – Aragog is dyin’, he’s bin sick lately an’…an’ I don’ know what ter do…!”

“Oh Hagrid, I’m sorry,” Atlas conceded, nodding briefly, she managed to bring herself to pat the man’s back, staring at him sympathetically. “Is there…anything I can do?”

“I don’ think there is, Las,” Hagrid blubbered, attempting to stem the flood of his tears. “See, the rest o’ the tribe…Aragog’s family…they’re gettin’ a bit funny now he’s ill…bit restive…”

“They’re territorial things by nature,” Atlas reasoned and watched as Hagrid blew his nose into his handkerchief that looked more like a tea towel. “I’ll make sure to steer clear of the colony…”

“I reckon tha’s for the best,” Hagrid said and nodded tearily. Atlas comforted him a bit more, standing in silence for a while as the man collected himself. “I have…I have a nest’ve Golden Snidgets…” he said through a great big sniffle a moment later, looking red-eyed and puffy-faced.

Atlas looked at him, brows furrowed before she puffed out a breath and looked off to the side, she took a moment to herself, contemplating if this was all even worth it – she understood the man was grieving, that he was upset about the others but it was exhausting enough being left with her own thoughts let alone the man’s consistent air of sorrow. she eventually shook her head before tossing her cloak back over the pumpkin patch’s resident scarecrow, it shook its twig fist at her and if it had a mouth it’d probably curse her out.

“Cheer up Hagrid, I’m sure everything’ll be all right,” Atlas said, offering him a small assuring smile. Hagrid nodded quickly, shaggy hair moving so fast he donned the appearance of a tumbleweed, it made Atlas laugh and she dusted herself off. “All right, show me the Snidgets.”

This time when he told Atlas about the little beasts he seemed a little more enthusiastic, apparently spurned on by the desire to keep his only student rather than lament over the ones he didn’t have. He did his monologue in a fashion more fitting of Hagrid and then took Atlas into the woods, leading the way to a beautiful ruin where a nest sat in a tree at its centre. And by the looks of the little things, she very much understood why once upon a time they had been used in place of a Golden Snitch, a barbaric way to use such pretty little creatures, and Atlas would never have gotten into Quidditch if they still used the tiny beasts in game.

One hopped up into her palm whilst the other two whizzed around her head, fast, faster than her eye could catch. They were faster than Golden Snitches, it was a wonder they were ever actually caught. Hagrid and Atlas stayed there for an hour, playing with them, cooing and tending to the mess that surrounded the tree. It was all overgrown, weeds peeking through cracks and disturbing the structural integrity of what remained of the ruins.

“Poachers once almost hunted ’em to extinction,” Hagrid said gruffly as one sat on his shoulder, the size difference was comical. “But a studen’ found some an’ took care of the clutch a hundred or so years back, yeh see –” He reached up and with gentle hands placed the Snidget back in its nest, “Mum’ll be back soon, leave ’em there.”

Atlas had to admit she wanted to keep maybe one but did as she was told, putting them back in their nest. “They’ll be ok?”

“No Poachers in these parts no more,” Hagrid assured as they walked away, “not many ’round Hogwarts, closer to Feldcroft I’d say,” he grumbled and Atlas vaguely remembered that was where Hagrid received a lot of his creatures. 

“You don’t buy from poachers, do you Hagrid?” Atlas asked, brows furrowed and the man shook his head quickly, offended, it seemed, by the mere suggestion.

“I’d never! Those poachin’ bastards, always quick to scatter when Fang an’ I show up,” Hagrid puffed, his chest bloating with pride and Atlas realised she had asked a silly question, this man would sooner hang up his hat as Gamekeeper than line a poacher’s pockets with his galleons. “Anyway, Centaurs will protect ’em, might not be on good terms but they care just as much as us.”

“Surprised they let us this close to the nest then,” Atlas smiled and Hagrid laughed, nodding with the first grin Atlas had seen from the man since he’d received the news no one else had chosen his class. 

“Scared ’em off didn’ yeh?” Hagrid said, nudging the girl so that she almost tripped, “Showed ’em up didn’ yeh?”

“Last year?” Atlas remembered brawling with the Centaurs vaguely and huffed a snort, “Yeah I think I clawed a few of them, they know arrows don’t hurt me when I’m…beastly?”

“Yeah,” Hagrid beamed, his grin wide. With the healing bruise across his nose, he looked a little crazy but this was Hagrid, Atlas was used to it. “Golden Snidget’s are real small creatures but importan’, wizardkind owes ’em I say.”

Atlas nodded in agreement as they neared the man’s hut. 

“Yeh know, I found one when I was a lad,” Hagrid continued as Atlas gathered her things, she had checked her pocket watch and noticed the lesson was soon to end, “Back then they were still, er…fragile, there’s bin a boom in numbers in recent years. Anyway, I was just a wee lad, first-year –” Atlas struggled to imagine the man as a ‘wee lad’ but nodded along, “– I found one, all on its own it was, took it with me in me cloak, an’ then, as I was walking back to me dorm, a room showed up!”

“The Room of Requirement?”

Hagrid made a face, he clearly didn’t know it by that name.

“I wen’ in and yeh wouldn’ believe it Atlas, a whole forest it was!” Hagrid grinned, laughing heartily, “Creatures all over the place, boomin’ with life, I saw a few Snidget’s and my one took flight, tried to catch it but it was too fast fer me. I was pushed out after tha’ but I tell yeh Atlas, it was beautiful!”

“Did you look for it?”

“I did,” Hagrid nodded and frowned, “couldn’ find it ever again.”

The bell rang in the distance and Atlas flinched, taking in a breath as she picked up her cloak from the scarecrow and grabbed her bag. “That’s cool, Hagrid.”

“Ain’t it jus’?” Hagrid beamed, “Yeh best get goin’, homework for today is…er, draw me a Golden Snidget.”

“Just that? You don’t want it’s history?” Atlas huffed a laugh and smiled when Hagrid waved the suggestion off. “All right, I’ll see you next lesson Hagrid.”

“See yeh, Atlas. I’ll have those Diricrawls next time, yeh’ll see.” 

Feeling spectacularly lighter than she had done the past few times leaving Hagrids, Atlas retreated up to the school and further to the Gryffindor common room, Hagrid’s had been her last lesson so she was free to complete some of her homework in peace before dinner, well, relative peace, Harry and Ron lit up when she walked in and pounced on her for answers to their homework. 

Like Hermione, Atlas was not so weak-willed and, still feeling petty about them leaving her to deal with Hagrid’s wallowing, said nothing and watched them suffer over their Charms homework. Hermione had rolled her eyes when she’d returned from her class, asked Atlas for help with her new Ancient Runes essay and, right in front of Harry and Ron, the boys lamenting over their essays, she said yes with a beaming smile. 

When none of them could continue the four retreated to their dorm rooms for the night and readied for bed. Atlas was fiddling with her cassettes when Hermione nudged her side with her elbow and presented her with a box.

“What is it?” Atlas asked, setting the cassette down on her bed as she took it.

“Birthday present,” Hermione smiled and Atlas quirked a brow. “Didn’t think I forgot did you?”

“No, just…” Atlas trailed off, “Well, yeah…I didn’t remind anyone.”

“You never remind us,” Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “I didn’t say anything to the boys because I know you don’t necessarily love today, but…I still wanted to give you a gift.”

“You gave me a gift last year,” Atlas said, the leather bracelet still strapped to her wrist.

“For last year’s birthday,” Hermione said and Atlas hummed, weighing the box in her hand, “open it then.”

Atlas did as she was told and plucked open the lid, peering inside and smiling when she pulled out the lion doll, or rather, lioness, it lacked the distinct mane of a lion. She reached over and sat it beside her old lion doll, the newer one holding up the charred doll beside it, Atlas smiled, satisfied before turning to Hermione and hugging her fiercely.

“Thank you, it’s cute,” she whispered into her shoulder.

Hermione chuckled, “You’re welcome, Happy Birthday, Atlas.”

And when Hermione pulled away she planted a kiss on Atlas’s cheek quickly before grabbing her Arithmancy book from her desk and flipping it open to her bookmarked page, leaving Atlas standing there in the centre of their room, blinking dully. 

She missed. Truly, Atlas was losing it.

The next day she awoke to an empty room, Kalo was gone and so was her robin friend, even Crookshanks had vacated the dorm, probably prowling the common area and hissing at first-years. Atlas hoped he didn’t bully the little girl she’d shared a boat with to Hogwarts. She sighed as she sat up, stretching her arms out in front of her so that they would click as she slowly realised that was the first bit of good sleep she’d had in a while. Part of her had it down to her interaction with Hermione, the healing kiss as her traitorous brain sang and her heart danced to.

She was sick. She had to be coming down with something disgusting. And, yes, Atlas was very aware she liked Hermione, uncomfortably aware but never like this. She blamed it on Ginny, on that interaction that first day back with Hermione.

Stop. She had stuff to do, what Hagrid had said the day before intrigued her and she had planned to go and see if she could get the Room of Requirement to reveal that specific room to her. Of course, she’d need to meet that requirement to get in but she didn’t know what, Hagrid had been in possession of a magical creature so maybe that was it, maybe she just needed a magical creature. Vaguely magical should be enough.

Atlas descended into the common room and spotted Crookshanks cleaning himself by the fire. The half-Kneazle cat looked up at her when she entered and approached, readily jumping up into her arms as if it were his sole purpose. Atlas was thankful, now she didn’t have to chase the furry lump around. 

With the cat in hand, she left the common room and carried him to the Astronomy Tower where she mounted a dozen flights of stairs, passed violently arguing paintings and dodged a sly swing of a mace by Peeves until she finally made it to the wall that housed the door to the Room of Requirement. She walked back and forth in front of it, Crookshanks purring in her arms, quite content but Atlas grew disappointed, the door did not show. She stopped and stood in front of it, humming quietly to herself as she repeated the process to no avail.

“What are you doing?” Atlas turned her head to Daphne and huffed.

“Trying to figure something out,” Atlas said as Crookshanks purred against her neck. “You all right?”

“Yeah, just handed my homework to Professor Sinistra,” Daphne said as she stood beside Atlas and looked at the wall, “what are you trying to figure out?”

“This is where the Room of Requirement is.”

“Ah, the ever-elusive Dumbledore’s Army meeting spot,” Daphne smiled and glanced around, “should you have told me that?”

“You don’t know how to get in,” Atlas pointed out and Daphne nodded before knuckling her shoulder.

“You so totally lied about your Amortentia,” she grinned and Atlas flushed, adjusting Crookshanks idly.

“I didn’t I just…left things out.”

“So what did you smell?” Daphne asked.

“Leather, old books…peaches and caramel tea,” Atlas admitted and Crookshanks meowed. Oh clever Crookshanks, Atlas was forever grateful Hermione could not understand the cat, the little fiend would tell his owner everything.

“Books and peaches I get, that’s most definitely Hermione, she’s a famous bookworm and you always go on about the smell of peaches,” Daphne said but tilted her head, “but leather and caramel tea?”

“Hermione gifted me leather gloves, it was my first present from her and…she makes me caramel tea, it’s the only tea I like,” Atlas explained and turned when Daphne laughed, the Slytherin was grinning as if holding in something teasing. “What?”

“You do know Amortentia isn’t just supposed to smell like the one we love, right?” Daphne said and Atlas flushed, rolling her eyes, “like, at least two are supposed to smell like maybe a hobby or something. All four smelling like the girl you like, Atlas you are so far gone!”

“Shut up, Greengrass,” Atlas said, looking away. “What did you smell?”

Daphne went silent, red flooding her cheeks. 

“Oh come on, you said you had your eye on someone on the train, I know you like someone,” Atlas goaded and Daphne scowled at her, still blushing furiously, “You cannot dig at me for liking Hermione and then lock up, come on, how many of the four smelt like your crush?”

“Three.”

“You’re just as far gone,” Atlas pointed out and Daphne crossed her arms. “So, what were the three smells?”

“They’re weird…”

“Ok, just one then, the least weird,” Atlas encouraged and Daphne ran a hand through her golden locks, shaking them out.

“Dirt.”

“You –” Atlas was shocked still, a small grin cracking her cheek, “you like…dirt?” she snorted, before covering her mouth, even Crookshanks went still, he had stopped purring and was looking at Daphne with his signature judging stare. “That’s the least weird? Oh please! Please tell me the other two!”

“Oh, eat a tube of undiluted bubotuber pus!” Daphne snapped as she walked away, flipping Atlas off over her shoulder. Atlas held Crookshanks close as she jogged after the girl, forgetting about the realm of creatures within the Room of Requirement for a moment. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Atlas chuckled, catching up to her. “I’m sure they’re lovely.”

“You’re an ass,” Daphne sighed and then seemed to grin, “speaking of asses, once again your girlfriend crops up whenever we talk, she’s got to have an alarm built-in or something,” Atlas looked and saw Hermione approaching them.

“She’s not an ass,” Atlas hissed.

“That’s not what I was referring to…” Daphne smirked and when Hermione was within earshot, she greeted her, “hello, Granger.”

“Greengrass,” Hermione nodded curtly and turned to Atlas, holding her arms out. For a brief moment, Atlas thought she wanted a hug but realised she just wanted her cat, “he needs his lunch.”

“Oh, sorry, I took him on an adventure,” Atlas said as she handed the ball of fur over. “How’d you find us.”

“I put a charm on Crookshanks so I’d know where he was after our third year,” Hermione said and cradled Crookshanks, Atlas watched Hermione play with him, scratching his head and smiling wide.

“Cute…” Atlas murmured.

“What?” Hermione said and Daphne grinned, nudging Atlas.

“I said cute, he’s cute,” Atlas coughed and then tugged at Hermione’s cloak. “Come on, I have homework to do. See you, Daphne.”

“Bye Atty!” Daphne called out through laughter and Atlas tensed, feeling how Hermione froze. Honestly, did Daphne want Atlas to die?

They returned to Gryffindor Tower and Atlas quickly grabbed her homework from upstairs before they settled by the hearth of the common area, Hermione sat beside her, stewing silently for a while as they completed their potions homework. It was stuff Atlas knew, most of it basic and answered with a few words, it was the easiest homework for her by far, Hermione on the other hand seemed stumped on some but didn’t ask for help, resolutely plowing on without making a peep.

Harry and Ron joined them at some point and by then Atlas was hanging upside down off of the sofa, her hair spilling out on the floor as she tried to make sense of some herbology book. Harry started talking about some potion he was grasping thanks to help from the Half-Blood Prince or whatever, some self-important character who had previously owned his copy of Advanced Potion-Making, Atlas didn’t really care, all she knew was Harry and she were tied for top potion maker in class and it was surprisingly grating whenever Professor Slughorn raved about his abilities and how similar he was to his mother. Part of her wished one day the man would throw them a curveball and jokingly ask them to make a cure for a blood curse, she’d go in and slam a bottle on his desk.

This was petty of course, Harry was her godbrother and she should be pleased for him, for once he was getting good attention from his potions professor, sure he was copying the work of someone else but Ron had been right, he was just following the instructions in his book. It wasn’t wrong she supposed.

So, yes, she was ignoring the boy and whatever he was saying so reverently about this prince up until Hermione spoke for the first time that afternoon. 

“Or herself,” she said when Harry mentioned some things the Prince had made up ‘himself’, “It might have been a girl. I think the handwriting looks more like a girl’s than a boy’s.”

“The Half-Blood Prince, he was called,” Harry said. “How many girls have been princes?”

“Parvati once told me she could see Atlas as a prince,” Hermione blurted and Atlas looked past her book and sat up, looking at Hermione as the blood rushed from her head and back to the rest of her. She’d pay for laying like that with a headache no doubt. “If they were anyone like Atlas, it’d make sense, it was probably a nickname.”

“I guess she’s as rich as a prince,” Ron said and Hermione shot him a confused look.

“No, it was because she looked like a prince,” Hermione said and then shook her hands about as if to stop the very air they breathed, “not the point, I don’t even remember what Parvati said.”

“Right, while you deal with remembering one of many conversations you’ve probably had about Atlas with Parvati and Lavender,” Harry said as he stowed away his book and Hermione flushed furiously, “It’s five to eight, I’d better go, I’ll be late for Dumbledore.”

“We’ll wait up,” Atlas said as she slid off of the sofa and plopped herself down beside Hermione. 

“Hope it goes okay, mate,” Ron said as Harry waved and disappeared through the portrait hole, leaving them as three.

“You talk to Parvati and Lav about me?” Atlas whispered after a moment of silence. Hermione loudly groaned and hit Atlas with her Arithmancy book before returning to her potions homework. “You’ve been at that for an hour, do you need help?”

“Does Daphne really call you Atty?” Was the question Atlas got in return and she froze, eyes widened as she pulled back and regarded the girl.

“No, she doesn’t, she did it to get on my nerves,” Atlas sighed and pulled out her finished potions homework to hand to Hermione. “Here, you can read through what I put and see if it makes it all easier.”

“Atty gets on your nerves?” Hermione said quietly.

“No, it gets on my nerves when anyone but you calls me it,” Atlas replied and returned to her Herbology work, “if you need any help with your Transfiguration essay I’ve finished mine and you can have a read.”

“Oh, can I have a look?” Ron piped in and Atlas glanced up at him, smiling slightly as she rolled her eyes and dug around in her bag. “Thanks, Atlas,” he beamed as she tossed her complete essay over to him.

“Don’t copy it, Minerva will know and fail you completely.”

“What if she thinks you copied me?” Ron questioned, Atlas stared at him blankly, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly before she puffed out some air and deflated.

She did not dignify the boy with an answer and continued with her remaining homework.

Hours passed as the three waited for Harry’s return but when it was becoming increasingly obvious the boy would not be back until well into the night Atlas quickly became sleepy and, on many occasions, almost fell asleep over her work. It was after knocking a full ink well over Hermione’s work that the victim in question practically dragged Atlas up to their shared dorm room.

“Hermione wait, I want to know what Dumbledore teaches Harry, I can –“

“You just knocked ink all over my complete 12-inch essay, Atlas,” Hermione said, her voice shockingly even, “If you’re still awake when he returns I’ll tell you everything without sparing a detail.”

“Right, ok…I’m – I’m sorry about your essay,” Atlas winced, handing Hermione a new ink pot.

“You’re lucky I can erase all that ink, otherwise I’d be turning you into a fur rug,” Hermione huffed, snatching up the pot and leaving the room with a flourish so fast she could put Snape to shame.

Atlas let out a breath, her hand on her hip and her other halfway through her hair as she looked around at the interior of her room, Kalo and Little Robin blinked over at her, both remaining sat on the window sill, unmoving. It was unnerving but Atlas supposed Kalo had always been a little peculiar, she was more concerned for Little Robin who seemed to be growing more sluggish as the weeks passed. She walked over and sat at the window, scratching his chest with a single finger. 

“How are you, baby boy?” Atlas whispered as he crooned against her finger, his eyes closed. Kalo hooted, missing the affection the robin was receiving and Atlas huffed, patting her stomach, he was such a needy thing, though he hated showing it. The shadowy beast hopped onto her lap and bundled against her stomach. 

The lake reflected the moonlight below, a picturesque landscape stretching as far as the eye could see, Atlas admired it for a while before turning back to her sleepy robin. His condition made her wonder, had her concerned as she thought of her little Agoniser pal that had ceased to move sometime last year and the magical figurines she had been gifted at Christmas that stopped working ever since her father passed. Robin was a product of magic, a conjuration charm performed by Victor Krum, the spell would weaken over time and Robin’s very rarely lived past three years organically.

“Are you tired?” Atlas whispered to the little bird and Kalo peered down at the robin also, a quiet stillness settling over the room. The robin made a small sound, unlike the usual chatter he voiced. “I see…me too,” she smiled and picked the bird up in her palm, placing him on her shoulder where he could rest against her neck.

She sighed and let her head rest against the alcove wall, closing her eyes. It wasn’t long before she drifted off to sleep, her breaths softening and falling evenly, all else forgotten as the exhaustion caught up to her.

The world was limited when she slept, it was simple, a small box that somehow contained  Atlas’s greatest fears and regrets, in one corner, there sat a bloodied room, in another, a ruined hamlet, they had been there for as long as she could remember, two pathways she would be forced to choose between as she grew. Recently, two more had made themselves known, behind her, a graveyard developed, dark and foggy, though unmistakably familiar and beside it, the ministry, a room that looked like a hybrid of both the mysterious arch and the hall of prophecy.

Her mind would be pulled between them before she was plunged into one and forced to live the memory over and over til she woke. Tonight, just like the many before, it would be the ministry, an apparent favourite of her traitorous brain.

A soft something tickled against her cheek and the room grew foggy, more obscure and incoherent as her consciousness returned and her eyes slowly peeled open. She was back in her dorm, heart thumping and eyes sort of frantic, glowing gold as she took in a breath and was smothered with that stupid Amortentia. 

Wait.

Atlas’s hands found a soft body, her palms pressing against cloth concealing warm flesh. “Hermione,” her voice was hoarse so she cleared her throat and looked up at the girl who was holding her close. “What…erm…?”

“You were having a nightmare,” Hermione said as she pulled away and pushed a strand of hair out of Atlas’s face.

“Oh,” Atlas’s cheeks coloured as she fought off the burning shame she felt, usually Hermione would be asleep by now, oblivious to Atlas fighting her sheets in the other bed but Hermione had been waiting up this time, she had been awake to see. Atlas looked away, closing her eyes as she roughly rubbed her palm against her forehead to fight off an emerging headache, “right…thank you -” she cleared her throat, “- I take it Harry came back?”

“Mhmm,” Hermione hummed as she sat in Atlas’s desk chair, Crookshanks hopping up and curling in her lap. “Dumbledore has Harry looking at memories for his lessons.”

“Memories?” Atlas questioned, turning to face Hermione. She realised Kalo and Little Robin no longer sat in her lap and cast a brief glance to the open window, they must’ve left while she slept. 

“In his pensieve,” Hermione said and seemed to try and recall Harry’s recollection, “the memory belonged to someone named Bob Ogden, he was a Ministry employee who was working on a case to do with the Gaunt family.”

“I’ve never heard of Ogden but the Gaunt family is infamous, they were a shining example of Purebloods and followed the ideologies…obsessively,” Atlas frowned, leaning forward as she spoke, “They were…strange, a lot of them were inbred.”

“Yes well, apparently, according to Harry, the son, Morfin attacked a Muggle whose name was Tom Riddle senior,” Hermione said and watched, nodding slowly as Atlas slowly came to understand the implications of this, “Morfin had a sister, Merope who liked Riddle but Riddle seemed to think the Gaunts were horrid and by what Harry said, he was probably right. Mr Gaunt sounded abusive, Merope was allegedly a squib in his eyes.”

“Sounds about right,” Atlas frowned and sighed, “Walburga hurt dad sometimes…most pureblood families preach abuse as power. When it comes to squibs…a lot of them get disowned,” she shook her head, “what happened then? I mean, I’m assuming Tom Riddle Senior is Voldemort’s father…so, Merope was his mother? Voldemorts a Gaunt?”

“That’s not all,” Hermione said after nodding, “After Morfin and Mr Gaunt went to Azkaban due to continuous attacks and disregard for wizard law, Merope found her footing, emboldened by her freedom she bewitched Tom Riddle and they ran away.”

“Bewitched?” Atlas questioned, her brows furrowing, “through the Imperius Curse or…?”

“Amortentia,” Hermione said, her expression stoney, “Harry said Dumbledore suspects Merope would think it more romantic.”

“But…but that’s –“

“I know,” Hermione murmured and Atlas let out a breath, her jaw clenching.

“So…Voldemort was maybe conceived under a love potion?” Atlas asked and when Hermione nodded she looked out of the window and massaged between her brows, “No wonder he’s such a sociopath,” she took a moment and turned to Hermione, “What happened to Merope?”

“Harry said she died.”

“And Voldemort’s father?”

“He left her whilst Merope was still pregnant,” at Atlas’s quizzical look she continued, “Merope stopped giving him the love potion, maybe because she was so deluded she assumed he had grown to love her on his terms.”

“What a sad girl,” Atlas said, shaking her head with a scowl, “misguided…and so wrong.”

Hermione nodded in agreement, picking at her fingers, “I think Dumbledore wants to show Harry how Voldemort became what he is but…I’m not really sure why?”

“To give causation to his actions,” Atlas said as she stood and kicked off her shoes. “Understanding your enemy is important, Mi, it reveals things, weaknesses and secrets. If Harry comes to understand Voldemort, he can defeat him. Friends close, enemies closer and all that.”

“I’m surprised Professor Dumbledore didn’t have you looking into the memories as well,” Hermione said and Atlas flinched before letting out a weak chuckle, nodding.

“To be honest, I was surprised too,” Atlas said and turned to Hermione, who had stood and was getting changed into her pyjamas. “But I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, I’m more than happy to just…fly under his radar this year.”

“I’d prefer that as well,” Hermione smiled, looking over her shoulder with a small smile, “Harry seems to still look up to him somewhat but I know you aren’t exactly fond of him. I can’t say I am either.”

Atlas huffed a laugh, “Yeah, I’m not exactly his biggest fan. Was there anything else?”

“No, Harry said he cut it off there,” Hermione said and Atlas rolled her eyes.

“Typical,” she said and shook her head, “he never was a fan of cutting to the chase.”

“Giving Harry time to process each memory isn’t necessarily bad.”

“I guess not…” Atlas admitted and sighed, “he just…gets under my skin.”

“I know he does,” Hermione smiled and brushed down her t-shirt, moving to stand in front of Atlas, she held out her hand, “Come on then, let’s get you to your bed.”

“Oh, am I not allowed to sleep with you anymore?” Atlas huffed and Hermione shook her head.

“We only shared at the Burrow because there was nowhere else for you to sleep.”

“There was a sofa.”

“As if I’d let you sleep on the sofa.”

“I could have shared with Ginny.”

Surprisingly, Hermione scowled, “You can go and share with Ginny now if you’d like.”

“What? No!…No,” Atlas rushed and quickly stood, “I was joking, I –“

“Oh, come on,” Hermione huffed and climbed into bed, pulling Atlas down with her. Atlas yelped at the drastic change in height and let out a grunt when her hip thudded against the edge of the bed frame. 

“Merlin, Hermione.”

“Are you sleeping here or not?”

“You’re so mean,” Atlas chuckled.

“…sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Atlas said and settled beside her.

“Did it…are you actually hurt?”

“No,” Atlas sighed, rubbing her side. “Actually…would you kiss it better if I was?”

“Goodnight, Atlas.”

In the morning, Atlas received another detailed description from Harry of what Dumbledore had taught him the night prior and she had spoken the very same words she had to Hermione, offering her limited knowledge of the Gaunts and her two knuts on what she thought Dumbledore’s future lessons would entail. She didn’t get very far in her explanation as the bell rang for their first lesson which was, much to Atlas’s growing dismay, Potions. 

Ordinarily, she loved the subject but Slughorn was consistently biased when it came to his favour of Harry, he coddled Atlas too but he seemed peculiarly interested in the boy and in honesty, while it had been grating before it was getting tiresome now. She was not jealous, she wouldn’t go that far, rather, she was undoubtedly discouraged when each time a prize was involved she would have to either split it with the boy, give it to him or take it for herself which would make her feel inexplicably guilty considering Harry didn’t care for the crystalised peaches or vials of semi-precious potions.

In fact, that was not all, in the week that followed, most lessons Atlas had once loved became tedious, the homework was killer and because she had learned most charms and hexes wordlessly, she was instead tasked with writing essays about each spell and their practicalities. It was unfair, she’d said as much to Minerva after sharing a cup of tea with her one evening – the lady was not much help on the matter and had reasoned to Atlas that it wouldn’t hurt getting to know the magic she cast because it could improve her capabilities.

Atlas was begrudgingly in agreement with this when she was asked to perform a charm wordlessly that she had learned years ago, the explosion that followed was far larger than anything she had ever performed. 

Still, Atlas had lost sleep writing those essays, and though this meant she hadn’t had a nightmare in days it also meant she could no longer differentiate between a tube of toothpaste and Lavenders concealer in the mornings when she went to the Gryffindor girls’ shared bathroom. It also meant she developed a dependency on endurance potions if she didn’t want to miss a deadline.

“You need to sleep.”

“Unless you find someone willing to write my essays on Bombarda, Aguamenti, Levioso and Protego as well as all of my other essays,” Atlas listed, pouring another potion into her mouth as Ginny walked beside her to breakfast, “these apple-flavoured beauties are staying.”

“I’ll tell Hermione.”

“Go on then,” Atlas huffed and Ginny raised a brow, walking quickly ahead, “Wait! Don’t…” Atlas took a breath in between clenched teeth, “Don’t tell Hermione, I’ll take a nap after Quidditch trials.”

“So you’re trying out?” Ginny said after a satisfied nod.

“Yeah, Hermione said it might do me good to have something normal,” Atlas hummed as they entered the Great Hall. “I’m actually pretty nervous, loads are applying this year, I might not make the team.”

“You’re such an idiot…” Ginny sighed, walking ahead.

“What?” Atlas jogged after her.

“Atlas thinks she might not make the team, please, talk sense,” Ginny said to Harry, Ron and Hermione when they reached them, before walking over to meet Neville and Luna who sat further along the table.

“You’re barking,” Ron baulked.

“There’s loads applying this year,” Atlas argued as she sat beside Hermione and grabbed a slice of toast smothered in strawberry jam.

“Who’s to say they’ll be any good?” Hermione said as she fixed the dodgy collar of Atlas’s jacket, “We all know most of them aren’t even really going for Quidditch.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, frowning. “Why else would they try out for the team?”

“Oh, come on, Harry,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes as she looked at the boy impatiently. “It’s not Quidditch that’s popular, it’s you! You’ve never been more interesting, and frankly, you’ve never been more fanciable.”

Atlas dropped her toast as Ron seemed to choke and withhold a bit of laughter.

“Everyone knows you and Atlas have been telling the truth now, don’t they?” Hermione explained as Atlas stared at the side of her head. “The whole Wizarding world has had to admit that you two were right about Voldemort being back and that you specifically really have fought him twice in the last two years and escaped both times. And now they’re calling you ‘the Chosen One’ — well, come on, can’t you see why people are fascinated by you?”

Harry looked red in the face, looking around the hall in an effort to derail the conversation. Atlas on the other hand frowned and stabbed her toast with her fork.

“Plus it doesn’t hurt you’ve grown about a foot over the summer and now you’re Captain of the team, it’s a perfect opportunity for people to get close to you,” Hermione finished and shook her head, “honestly, you’re just as oblivious as Atlas.”

“Hey, what did I do?” Atlas huffed, her gaze snapping up from her massacred toast.

“Don’t pout, Atlas, a fair few of them are probably applying because you’ll be there too,” Hermione said, though she looked disgruntled as she spoke whilst Atlas suddenly looked taken aback, flustering for words.

“That’s not why I was…whatever.”

“Honestly you two…” Hermione sighed, shaking her head. “The fact is, half of the school suddenly has a crush on ‘The Chosen One’,” she continued, her fingers up in air quotations, “and loads of people pestered Angelina to hold try-outs last year just to meet Atlas.”

“Wait, really?” Atlas whispered to herself.

Hermione looked at her, expression incredulous.

Before she could berate Atlas for her obliviousness further, a sea of owls came flooding in through the stained windows, dropping letters and parcels upon eager students, the number of letters was far more than usual but Atlas suspected that was due to the paranoia sweeping the nation and watched as children quickly wrote out there letters of reassurance, tossing the owls their knuts and sending them back where they flew in from with their responses. She turned back to her breakfast after, lathering another slice of toast with jam as Hermione received that day’s copy of the Daily Prophet and Harry disguised his battered old book to look like the new one he received.

“Anyone we know dead?” Ron asked with a falsely casual voice, Atlas hated it whenever he asked, often tuning out.

“No, but there have been more dementor attacks,” Hermione said. “And an arrest.”

“Excellent, who?” Harry asked and Atlas looked over Hermione’s shoulder hoping to see some familiar names whilst knowing the likelihood of any of her relatives being arrested was slim to none.

“Stan Shunpike…” Atlas read out, completely blindsided.

“What?” Ron said, his eyes wide.

“‘Stanley Shunpike, conductor on the popular Wizarding conveyance the Knight Bus, has been arrested on suspicion of Death Eater activity. Mr Shunpike, 21, was taken into custody late last night after a raid on his Clapham home…'” Hermione read out and then looked over her shoulder at Atlas who looked back, her mouth hung open.

“Stan Shunpike, a Death Eater?” Harry said, looking incredulous as he tilted the paper for him to read. “No way!”

“He might have been put under the Imperius Curse,” Ron said, shrugging as if that were the cause. “You never can tell.”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Hermione said as she continued reading. “It says here he was arrested after he was overheard talking about the Death Eaters’ secret plans in a pub.” She looked up with a troubled expression on her face. “If he was under the Imperius Curse, he’d hardly stand around gossiping about their plans, would he?”

“It sounds like he was trying to make out he knew more than he did,” Ron huffed, crossing his arms, “Isn’t he the one who claimed he was going to become Minister of Magic when he was trying to chat up those Veela?”

“Yeah, that’s him,” Harry nodded. “I dunno what they’re playing at, taking Stan seriously.”

“They probably want to look as though they’re doing something,” Hermione said, frowning, “People are terrified — you know the Patil twins’ parents want them to go home? And Eloise Midgen has already been withdrawn. Her father picked her up last night.”

“What!” Ron baulked, looking at Hermione as if she were mad, “But Hogwarts is safer than their homes, bound to be! We’ve got Aurors, and all those extra protective spells, and we’ve got Dumbledore!”

“Rarely,” Atlas scoffed, motioning up to the top table where Dumbledore’s seat remained empty as it had been for the past few days, “he’s hardly around, even I haven’t seen him. Not to say I’m particularly put out about it, it’s just unordinary ain’t it?”

“I think he’s left the school to do something with the Order,” Hermione said in a low voice. “I mean…it’s all looking serious, isn’t it?”

That’s right, just the day before in the middle of Herbology, Hannah Abbott had been pulled out of the lesson to be told her mother had been found dead. The gut-wrenching scream that followed still unnerved those who had been around to hear it. Atlas included, it was after that lesson Susan Bones came up to Atlas and hugged her tightly, thanking her quietly and profusely for the nth time that term for saving her aunt.

The conversation came to a swift and abrupt end after that, none of them eager to broach the topic of those felled by the Death Eaters, it was tender and uncomfortable, a subject Atlas was often eager to avoid. Especially when it veered dangerously close to the death of Sirius.

The four of them left a few minutes later to head down to the Quidditch pitch, the beginnings of try-outs soon approaching, they passed Lavender and Parvati on the way down, Atlas offering the two of them a friendly wave as she went only to frown at Parvati’s sullen expression. She made to speak only to be interrupted when Lavender beamed and greeted Ron excitedly, the boy awkwardly waving in return and practically strutting ahead, his chest puffed out. Atlas would have laughed if she wasn’t so abundantly aware of the fact Parvati had liked Lavender for years now and it seemed the bubbly blonde had gone and fallen for Ron.

“You coming to watch try-outs, Parvati?” Atlas tried, shooting the girl an understanding smile.

“Oh, we’d love to!” Lavender beamed, practically skipping ahead. Parvati sighed and followed after Atlas shot her another apologetic look.

“What’s that about?” Harry said, his hands on his hips as he stood beside Atlas.

“Why are you standing like that?” Atlas replied instead, eyeing the boy’s stance with a cocked brow, he took his hands off of his hips and pushed her shoulder with a huff and a smile.

Trials took most of the morning, Atlas had offered to go last as she changed into her old Quidditch gear and the Chaser tryouts still hadn’t begun by the time she rejoined the crowd outside. In fact, hardly any had gone and Harry looked to be trying to get a bunch of Hufflepuffs to leave the pitch as they very obviously were trying out for the wrong team, even a few first-years were standing about many of whom had clearly never touched a broom before.

Harry looked to grow increasingly agitated with every group he had fly, dismissing them all, funnily enough, they didn’t even flinch, most giggling and running to sit in the stands and watch, Atlas noticed how Hermione would regard them with a roll of her eyes and grinned before turning back to Harry’s instructions. She obeyed his rules and did a few easy laps of the pitch, punching Quaffles through hoops he guarded and ducking under bludgers, there were a few who showed some promise but Ginny, Katie, and a girl named Demelza were the outliers, unfortunately, Demelza didn’t make Chaser but Harry let her try out for Beater which she surprisingly dominated.

Atlas flew over to the stands and hopped off her broom into the spot beside Hermione who clapped, smiling wide. “You made Chaser, I knew you would.”

“Half of the attendees weren’t even flyers,” Atlas huffed, running a hand through her hair, “And a quarter were complete disasters.”

“Told you they’d come to see you.”

“No, you said they came to see Harry,” Atlas corrected, crossing her arms, Hermione’s mouth dropped open and she slapped Atlas’s arm.

“And you!” she defended and shook her head, turning back to look upon the flyers, “honestly, even if that was the case, does the thought of all these people being here for just Harry bother you that much?”

“No that’s not…” Atlas trailed off and sighed, dropping her head to the side. “Whatever.”

“Atlas!” Harry called out, beckoning her over as Keeper tryouts began. She nodded and stood, ruffling Hermione hair as she stepped onto the edge of the stands and jumped off of the ledge, she tucked her broom between her legs as she fell.

“Don’t be an idiot!” She heard Hermione cry out and smiled to herself, lining up behind Katie and Ginny.

“Ginny and Katie will shoot twice,” Harry said, flying up beside them as one of the budding Keepers settled in the sky in front of the hoops. Harry looked at Atlas, “You’ll shoot once.”

“Sure,” Atlas nodded, she watched as most of the Keepers failed to save even two goals a piece, flying off in odd directions when she tossed her shots into the hoops. Most of them looked a little green, nervous as the stands grew more crowded, at least Ron wouldn’t be the only one matching the grass.

It came to Cormac McLaggen, a self-important pompous bloke Altas had bumped into a few times, she remembered he had been Hermione’s dance partner during practice, and the resentment had only grown from that. Him with his permed blonde hair, and that cocky smirk as he held onto his broom with a single hand and casually floated between goals. Atlas wanted to take Demelza’s bat and punt a bludger into his teeth.

He saved two of Katie’s shots and almost missed one of Ginny’s, he’d narrowly made it, however, so his cocky smirk slipped to a scowl as he appeared to lock in, glaring at Atlas who approached the hoops. She tossed the Quaffle up and down in her hand, her jaw clenching as she glared at the boy – she’d never wanted to score so badly. Maybe it was petty, the fact she purposely forced herself to think of their dance rehearsals, the way he had curled his hand around Hemrione’s waist and forcefully led the dance.

She scored. The Quaffle naturally soared through the hoop, a subtle whistle shrieking across the field as she put all of her body weight behind the throw. He had saved four out five, the highest score so far. 

Ron was next.

From the stands, Lavender cheered him on and Atlas quietly prayed for poor Parvati who shrank in her seat and crossed her arms. She let out a sigh, watching as Ron saved, one, two, three, four penalties in a row. It was probably a little rude to say she was impressed and surprised but it was the truth, the boy had looked as green as a Slytherin’s sock, about ready to topple off his broom and to the grass below.

It was her turn now, Ginny tossed her the Quaffle and flew to hover beside Katie. For a moment Atlas wondered if she should go easy on the boy, if he missed this he’d be drawn with McLaggen and they’d have to start all over, or worse he’d become so overcome with embarrassment he’d resign on the spot. Atlas could not team with McLaggen, the thought repulsed her and she’d surely quit. So, maybe she should slacken, and make an ‘honest’ mistake.

She looked at Ron, a frown on her face. No, he needed to earn this, if he found out one day that she’d gone easy on him, that crippling self-doubt would surely return tenfold. She should have faith.

So, with a deep breath, she launched the Quaffle towards the hoops, her eyes falling closed as the Quaffle left her hand. There was quiet for a moment before applause erupted from the stands and Atlas peered over at Ron who was sporting a bloody nose and had clearly stopped the ball with his face.

“Shit,” Atlas muttered as Ginny flew over to her brother, cracking up with laughter as she looked him over but also quietly congratulated him for making the team. Atlas moved to apologise but caught McLaggen gesturing wildly with his hands, looking as if he might punch Harry who was staring at him with a clenched jaw.

She descended and dropped her broom, getting between the boys and pushing McLaggen back. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“You went easy,” McLaggen accused, pointing at Atlas who scowled. “You gave him an easy save, didn’t really try!”

“Ever considered maybe Ron is just better than you?” Atlas snapped.

“Give me another go,” McLaggen demanded, turning his attention to Harry

“No,” Harry snapped back, “You’ve had your go. You saved four. Ron saved five. Ron’s Keeper, he won it fair and square.”

“Atlas cheated,” McLaggen said lowly and Atlas scowled, pushing the boy back again. He tripped over his broom and landed on his arse.

“Like hell I did,” Atlas spat, “you were just slow.”

“I’m not slow,” he stood, getting in her face. “Bitch.”

“Like a fucking slug.”

“Stop it — !” Atlas looked over at Hermione who had run down onto the pitch “– I swear if you get into another fight — !” and then back at McLaggen who had also looked at Hermione, his eyes locked upon her, a grin curling at his mouth, “– he’s trying to get a rise out of you, don’t be stupid –!” Atlas’s blood boiled and she clenched her fists, reaching out to pull Hermione behind her.

“Don’t look at her like that.”

Silence hung in the air, the rest of the newly formed team as well as a group of hopefuls who had stuck to the pitch watched silently, Ginny, who had been scowling at the side of Cormac’s head covered her mouth as she tried to hide a disbelieving grin, Katie was withholding explosive laughter and Harry looked around the pitch as if trying to find something to smile at that was not Hermione’s red cheeks and frazzled expression.

Atlas blinked, looked around, cleared her throat and turned to Ron, “You did brilliantly, well done.”

Ron, who looked a bit dazed and confused, suddenly bloated, looking pleased with himself as he flushed. “Thanks.”

They returned to silence.

“So…” Demelza spoke up and Atlas silently prayed for Demelza’s future fortune, “when is practice?”

“Right,” Harry said and let out a quiet laugh, “let’s sort out a date and I’ll dismiss tryouts.”

They agreed to practice the following Thursday and bid goodbye to the rest of the new team. Atlas found herself somewhat excited, her arms buzzing with the heat of an exercise gone well, she hadn’t played much Quidditch, hadn’t had the chance so the muscles needed to play the sport weren’t exactly consistently oiled, hopefully, that’d soon change. The four of them came to a stop within the entry hall, Harry, Ron and Hermione parting ways with Atlas after explaining they had planned to visit Hagrid, she had waved them off and stated that she had planned to take a nap after practice so she couldn’t go but to say hi to him and not bring up spiders.

“Aragog’s dying,” Atlas said and Ron shuddered.

“He won’t be missed.”

Hermione slapped his arm, hard.

Alone, Atlas walked to Gryffindor Tower, yawning as the adrenaline finally tapered away leaving behind a sack of muscle and bone too much for what fuel she had left to sustain. She had to splash her face with a jet of water from her wand, her hair slick back as she walked – to make matters worse, when she passed the portrait of Sir Codagan she realised she was still in her Quidditch gear thanks to his sudden request for a ‘Knightly Duel’, she supposed the Chaser gear had an adventurous look to it but, honestly, the man must have been just as depraved as she if he were mistaking dirty leather padding for shining armour.

She was pulling the chest piece over her head when Professor Slughorn turned the corner and walked straight for her, beaming wide and red in the cheeks as if he had been running up and down the tower steps.

“Atlas, my girl! Just the woman I was hoping to see,” He cheered and Atlas quickly tucked the padding under her arm, looking at the professor.

“Professor Slughorn, sir, to what do I owe the pleasure?” She asked and he grinned.

“I was hoping to catch you before dinner! What do you say to a spot of supper tonight in my rooms?” He said and Atlas was struck with the memory of Dumbledore requesting that she and Harry let the man collect them. That was why the man hadn’t been assigning her any missions, she was on one, a continuous quest. “We’re having a little party, just a few rising stars, I’ve got McLaggen –” Atlas did not want to go, “– coming and Zabini, the charming Melinda Bobbin, I hope very much that Miss Granger –” maybe Atlas would go “– will join us too and — how could I forget? — Harry of course.”

“Harry has detention with Snape tonight,” Atlas told and looked off to the side, “and…I’ll consider it. Minerva asked something of me the other day –” that was a complete lie but should it come to it, Atlas was certain the woman would play along, “– so I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Nonsense, Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall will be receiving my owl,” Slughorn grinned, walked past Atlas and patted her shoulder, “I’ll be seeing you at dinner, my dear girl!”

He disappeared and with it, each shred of sanity Atlas had been clinging onto, she let out a sigh and dropped her head in her hands. When she eventually made it back to the dorm she was bombarded by the people who had been there to witness Quidditch tryouts, all of them commending her whilst others pondered the whereabouts of Harry, hoping to get another shot despite the team being pretty much set in stone. Demelza introduced herself properly, alongside Jimmy Peakes, the other Gryffindor Beater and Atlas really tried to sound enthusiastic, especially as Demelza was genuinely such a sweet soul but her responses remained stunted.

Her saving grace was the reappearance of Harry, Hermione and a disgruntled-looking Ron.

“I’m going to Professor Slughorn’s dinner, help me pick out an outfit?” Hermione said quickly, grabbing Atlas’s hand and pulling her to Sanctuary. Atlas almost wept with joy as she sat on her bed, eyes heavy.

“Thank you,” she sighed and Hermione huffed a laugh. “You’re really going to the dinner?”

“I kind of have to,” Hermione frowned and looked nervous, “Professor Slughorn said Professor McGonagall needed you for something so you couldn’t attend, is everything ok?”

“It was a lie,” Atlas admitted and Hermione looked at her, brows furrowed.

“So you could have gone?” She said, her thumbs digging furiously into the fabric of a jade green dress.

“I guess.”

“Why aren’t you?” Hermione asked and Atlas shrugged.

“I’m just tired,” she breathed and Hermione’s tense shoulders seemed to slacken as she set the dress down and sat beside Atlas. 

“Well…all right, that makes sense,” she hummed, stretching her legs out in front of her, “I just thought maybe it would have been fun if you came with…Harry can’t go either.”

“Next time,” Atlas smiled and Hermione returned it, nodding as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “ok…so, show me the options.”

A grin spread across Hermione’s face as she stood and walked over to her collection of casual clothes. “So I was thinking nothing too flashy and formal but nothing too casual either, I kind of want to leave an impression.”

“Mi, you’d leave an impression on a rock.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Sorry.”