Chapter 21

The Christmas Lunch had been delicious. Atlas had never spent Christmas at Hogwarts before and had been wondering why she hadn’t asked Minerva to take her there before. The House Elves had really outdone themselves and Atlas mentally noted to buy them all a few presents when she next visited. Now though, she was outside Professor Lupin’s office, her present to him tucked safely under her arm and when she transfigured one of her ears and placed it against the door, she confirmed he wasn’t busy and pushed herself inside.

It was dark in the room, impossibly so really, as if the sun had died out and left the earth in eternal darkness. She grew wary and pulled out her wand, flicking a light to the ceiling where it hung above her. The light revealed Lupin, the man squinting over at her, face ashen and arm trembling as he raised it to save himself from the blinding light.

“Oh!” She quickly diminished it and shifted her eyes instead, “Sorry…”

“It’s quite alright, Atlas,” Lupins voice came, weak and feeble like but it was there. Atlas smiled sadly and went over to him, placing a hand on his wrist. Lycanthropy was something she couldn’t even begin to imagine, she’d read books on it, had come to know the effects it had before and after a full moon but would never truly know how it feels, especially now that she was an Animagus.

It’s a well-known fact Animagus can’t be turned by Lycanthropy, a blessing really as it has saved many wizards in the past from the curse of turning into such a beast. Not that all werewolves were bad, Professor Lupin was proof of that, but many were, like Fenrir Greyback, for example, a horrible werewolf who preyed on small children. Atlas had heard of him in passing and had immediately wished she hadn’t.

“What brings you here?”

“Right…um, Merry Christmas Professor,” She handed him the package, watching through glowing gold eyes as the man carefully took it and steadily pulled back the paper, revealing the new robes beneath, “It’s nothing too fancy, I just thought you might like something a little warmer.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Professor Lupin murmured.

“Hold on…” Atlas pulled out her necklace and clipped a second stone onto the chain beside the mini Minerva Animagus carving, pressing it against the cloak clip until it hummed warmly.

“A Heartstone?”

“Now we’re connected, Professor,” Atlas smiled, tucking her necklace away.

“I don’t know what to say but thank you…really…thank you,” and then he laughed. It was a peculiar reaction so Atlas cocked her head to the side, the movement of her eyes conveying her action to which Lupin smiled, “your mother actually got me the robe I’m wearing now.”

“She did?”

“Ah yes, Amaya, she was very curious, an inventor like her family but she’d never tried her hand at sewing,” Atlas grinned at the similarity of her and her mother, waiting intently for Lupin to finish, “And one day, she just shows up to a study session, carrying a mismatched robe and handed it to me with a beaming grin. Oh, Atlas, it was terrible, you think it’s bad now? This is after I had to fix it myself.”

“She was bad then?” Atlas laughed.

“Bad? She was awful,” He joined in, only to cough and keel over suddenly, putting a frown on Atlas’s face as she moved closer and placed her hand on his shoulder, “…I’m alright, I’m alright thank you.”

“I should leave you to rest…” Atlas smiled softly and the man nodded, rubbing at his throat slowly, “Merry Christmas…Uncle Remus,” she grinned this time and the man returned the gesture as best he could.

“And you, little star.”

“How’d you know that name?”

“Your mother was my Best Friend, Atlas,” Lupin replied and Atlas huffed, rolling her eyes amusedly.

“Alright, old-man, no need to get smart on me,” Atlas chided.

“You know, you shouldn’t speak to me like that, I’m still your Professor.”

“Eh,” Atlas shrugged, backing away with a grin, “I’ll see you some other time.”

“Very well, Atlas. Take care,” Lupin nodded and Atlas shifted her eyes back, cracking open the door of Lupin’s office and slinking outside, doing her best to not let too much light in.

There was still one more present she had left to give, well, two but one of them isn’t too fantastic and was a last-minute thing she’d made with the leftover materials she had. She turned and ventured up the stairs leading to the Gryffindor Common Rooms, Sir Cadogan’s painting forming in the distance.

She completely blanked him as she walked inside, glimpsing up at the Christmas tree briefly before going up to her dorm. It was breaching darkness now, that was the way in winter, the days grew shorter and the nights longer. Not to mention colder. Atlas was dreading the new Quidditch training of the term because she knew January would bring about the freezing temperatures and with that brought numb limbs and unrelenting colds. She got enough numb limbs when her magic had a fit and almost wreaked havoc.

A sigh left her at the thought and she quickly pushed into her room, spotting Hermione at her desk doing a few stray pieces of work. It was so typical of her Atlas didn’t even blink at it, of course, she would study on Christmas. “You know…you should give yourself a break.”

“Oh!” Hermione jumped in her seat, startling Crookshanks who was – previously – asleep in her lap. She turned and grinned, “Hey, you.”

“Why do you always greet me like that?” Atlas smiled, plopping front first onto Hermione’s bed and turning her head to look at the girl. Hermione seemed to ponder on it for a moment before shrugging.

“It’s a habit,” she reasoned, turning back to her work. Atlas just watched her a second, eyes drifting down to the girl’s quill as she dipped it in her pot of ink.

“That quill…” she began inconspicuously and Hermione turned to her quizzically.

“What about it?”

“It’s pretty bland, isn’t it?” she grinned.

“W-well…I suppose but — but it’s a quill, as long as it gets the job done,” Hermione huffed, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she turned back to her quill, hand hesitant and began writing again.

“Alright but, wouldn’t a cooler quill suit you better?”

“Atlas why have you taken a sudden interest in my–?” She stopped and stared down at the rectangular box Atlas had held out to her quizzically, “is this a proposal?” Hermione smirked and Atlas flushed, sitting up quickly to refute, “because if it is I’m flattered but–“

“No! It’s not, just–” Atlas groaned in frustration in grabbed Hermione’s quill, standing up to go over to the window where she flung it open and dropped the pen out of it. Hermione’s face dropped and she suddenly looked quite exasperated.

“Really Atlas? You’re a child and I was joking,” Hermione grumbled, rolling her eyes as she went to open her drawer for a new one but Atlas stopped her, holding the box in her line of sight.

“Open it,” She urged and Hermione glanced up at her funnily, taking the box from her and slowly lifting up the lid. Her eyebrows furrowed at the contents as she carefully pulled out the quill tip of intricate design.

“What is–?” The feather unravelled when Hermione’s fingers formed around it and a golden glow extended before her. She looked at it wide-eyed and then looked at a smirking Atlas, “This is — this is an Alicanto feather.”

“Sure is,” Atlas nodded, crossing her arms over her chest and watching as Hermione studied the Dire Wolf depicted in the carved lines of the metal grip. “Pure luck really, Hagrid told me there was an Alicanto nesting nearby, eating up all the gold in its cave. I went there a few months ago, it was gone but that was left behind.”

“I…I don’t know…just, wow Atlas and you made this?” Atlas nodded, “You’re incredible…” Hermione flushed when Atlas smirked, “I-I mean it’s incredible, obviously but…your abilities are incredible.”

“I remembered our visit to Hogsmeade, you seemed to really like the look of those quills at the quill shop and I already had the Alicanto feather on hand so,” she motioned to the pen, “I made it for you.”

“I can’t believe you remembered, thank you.”

“Wait until you see this…” Atlas whisked her wand and the light of the room vanished, leaving them in darkness, until, with a soft flicker, the feather came alight and lit up the front of Hermione’s face.

“God…It’s beautiful…”

“I know,” Atlas smiled softly and walked forward, pulling her chair from her desk and sitting in front of Hermione, their knees touching. The glow that came out of the pen tip illuminated a good majority of the room but didn’t blind the two and was, instead, comfortable to look directly at. It was purposely made that way, so it wouldn’t distract the writer when they were using it. “D’you like it?”

The way she asked was so hopeful, like she was somehow still unsure even after seeing Hermione’s face, “I love it,” Hermione confirmed, grinning from ear to ear as Atlas turned the light back on, “thank you, Atty.”

“Thank Godric,” Atlas sighed, slumping in her chair, “now I don’t have to give you the second present.”

“There was a second present?” Hermione asked, eyebrow cocked and mouth pulled into a disbelieving smile, “So I’m clearly the favourite?”

“Totally, you’re only just figuring that out?” Atlas smirked and then dug around her pocket, pulling out another box.

“It’s not a ring this time is it?” Hermione asked and Atlas rolled her eyes.

“Close but no,” she said, motioning for her to open it. As she said, it hadn’t been a ring but a necklace, similar to the one Atlas wore around her neck of Minerva’s Animagus but instead, it was Crookshanks, Hermione could tell by the grumpy design of its face. “I had some wood leftover.”

“You captured him,” Hermione chuckled and Atlas smiled at the sound, holding out her hand.

“Let me put it on,” She said softly and Hermione handed it to her, bring her hair around to her front as Atlas made her way behind her and carefully clipped the metal bindings of the string around her neck. “It’s no jewellery but I did cut my fingers a few times, so I hope my well being makes up for its lack of actual value.”

“Oh shush,” Hermione scolded, flicking her hair back and looking down at the small cat figure, “It’s valuable to me,” she whispered and Atlas grinned to herself, moving back in front of her and laughing when Crookshanks hopped into Hermione’s lap and studied the wooden figure of himself curiously.

“Ah, can’t forget this,” Atlas pulled out her own necklace first and then attached a second decoration to Hermiones, clipping the identical gemstones against each other until a low hum sounded from deep within the amber stone. “And…” they fell apart, Atlas tucked hers back in her shirt. “Now, they’re attached.”

“Attached?” Hermione asked amusedly.

“Yeah,” Atlas beamed, leaning back, “I bought a bunch of them ages ago, they’re called Heartstones, Cedric and Hagrid have them embedded in their rings, Bella and Minerva have one in their bracelets and I just gave Professor Lupin a cloak clip. There’s another two out there, but I haven’t seen the owners since I was 12, one lives in Bulgaria, she has a chain and the other in France, she has a hairpin.”

“Is that so? And…what do they do?”

“It’s uh…” Atlas flushed and rubbed at the back of her neck, “they don’t do anything too magical. They’re just all connected because they were farmed from the same ore deposit, they become attached to an owner when they’re activated by the core-stone, which is what I have. They then sync up with their owners hearts. So as long as it beats strong, it’ll remain warm,” She smiled, looking up at Hermione who was looking at her fondly, “I was thinking of making them for Ron and Harry.”

“I think they’d like that,” Hermione said softly.

“You do?”

“Very much,” She nodded, taking Atlas’s hands in hers and brushing her thumbs over the girl’s knuckles. “Oh!” Hermione suddenly let go and rounded on her end trunk, leaving Atlas to nervously rub her hands up and down her pant legs. “Here,” a parcel wrapped in red paper was pushed into her lap.

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s no Firebolt or Albanian Agoniser scale,” Hermione said and Atlas pulled a face, “but they offer practicality and safety,” she continued matter-of-factly.

“So you’re mothering me now?” Atlas smirked, opening the present easily, a smile remaining on her face the entire time, then she came to the actual present and grinned wider, “gloves, Hermione?”

“You have very rough hands.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Atlas asked, taking the gloves out and slipping her hands into them. They fit fantastically, no strain no matter how she bent her fingers and they weren’t uncomfortable or itchy either.

“Of course not!” Hermione rushed and Atlas glanced up at her amusedly, fiddling with her fingers and palms, experimenting with the temperament and limits of the gloves. “I’ve just noticed you wear bandages for Quidditch and in Defense Against the Dark Arts, if we’re doing a practical, you’ll do the same.”

“Oh…” Atlas muttered and then smirked, “didn’t know you paid that much attention to me.”

“Of course I do!” Hermione huffed. Atlas startled, staring at her with slightly widened eyes. “What? You’re my friend, of course, I’d monitor your health and possible injuries.”

“Alright,” Atlas sighed, waving it off. She looked back down to her hands and smiled softly, “Thanks…I haven’t been able to find comfortable enough gloves before but these are amazing.”

“It’s because I charmed them,” Hermione smiled proudly and Atlas smirked.

“Sure charmed me,” Atlas winked, sticking her tongue between her teeth, Hermione pushed her face and Atlas moved out of her desk chair, chuckling as she dragged it back to her desk and flopped onto her bed.

“Why are you so immature?” Hermione grumbled.

“Can I not joke around with my pretty roommate?” Atlas asked, turning over and staring up at her ceiling, hands held out in front of her as she examined her Christmas present, “Besides–” she frowned to herself, thinking back to her conversation with Cedric those days ago, “It’s not like they mean anything, right?”

“…Of course,” Hermione confirmed with a smile and Atlas looked over at her “Though, you almost had me, you know? I was on the edge of falling for you,” she continued, turning to look at Atlas with a smirk. 

“On the edge? I thought you’d already fallen for me?” Atlas smiled, turning back to her ceiling.

“You? Why would I fall for you when you’re an absolute idiot?”

“Words hurt Mione, you should really think about the emotional consequences they entail.”

“Oh yeah? I think you should do the same,” Hermione huffed, changing into her pyjamas. Atlas glanced over at her for a second and then went back to her ceiling, furrowing her brows in thought.

“Whatever you say.” There was a length of silence between them, until, to the surprise of both of them, Atlas asked a strange question, “so, have you ever fallen for someone?”

“I can’t say I have,” Hermione denied and Atlas turned on her side, staring at Hermione with her head propped up on her hand.

“Ever liked someone? Crushed on?”

“Sort of…” Hermione shrugged and Atlas grinned.

“Oh? Do tell.”

“I didn’t actually have a crush on him, it was like…a celebrity crush,” Hermione said, now Atlas was the one to shrug, urging for her to go on, “Gilderoy Lockhart, he taught here last year. Turns out he was a fraud and tried to attack Harry and Ron but I had a tiny crush on him before all of that.”

“The adventurer? He was a fraud?” Atlas awed, looking at Hermione with even greater interest than usual. 

“Oh yeah, big time. He listened to other adventurers, got every single detail and then obliviated them, stealing their stories and selling them to the public as if he’d been the one to experience them,” Hermione grimaced. “They were all so unbelievable as well, I can’t believe I actually bought his books.”

“Sometimes you can get blindsided by your liking for someone and you end up ignoring logic and the kind of person they are. You make excuses because you think the person you’ve fallen for can’t be as awful as they say because that means you’re interested in a horrible person,” Atlas told and then smirked when Hermione looked at her, astonished. “Yeah, Bella taught me that one after a bad break up with a prejudiced pig. She kicked him in the nether regions and locked him up in her pigpen. Where he belonged apparently.”

“Sounds like Bella is a woman I can get along with,” Hermione smiled, getting into bed. Crookshanks jumped up to join her, curling up at her stomach and nestling his head against Hermione’s chin. “But I think she’s right, Lockhart was too unscathed and pretty to have been an adventurer, I should have seen that.”

“Oh? I’ll have you know, I’m quite the adventurer myself. Are you saying I’m ugly?” Atlas grinned and watched as Hermione rolled her eyes exasperatedly, well used to Atlas’s antics at this point.

“That’s different, I meant because he doesn’t have any injuries that match up to the ones he got in his tales. God, Atty, you’re attractive and you know it.”

“Am I? Say it again and I just might believe you,” Atlas urged. Hermione groaned and pulled her blanket over her head, listening as Atlas laughed.

“How did I end up with a roommate as insufferable as you?” Hermione muttered with a smile. There was a bit of silence, Atlas’s laughter dying down to something soft and nervous, as if she didn’t know entirely who to respond to that.

“I’m glad we’re friends Mi…aren’t you?”

Her words sounded heavy and nervous and Hermione realised with everything that had gone on recently, with Atlas worrying whether or not they still wanted to be friends with her or not after the Three Broomsticks incident, maybe what she had said wasn’t the most appropriate thing in the world. Especially since Atlas hadn’t seen her smile and found it hard to differentiate between tones.

“Of course I am, Atty.” Hermione pulled back her covers and smiled over at Atlas, genuinely, softly and fondly. “Wouldn’t trade you as my roommate for the world.”

Atlas chuckled, “I’m glad, well…gladder…if that’s a word. Is that a word, Mi?”

“Yes, Atty. Gladder is a word.”

“Ah, it sounded like it had something to do with a bladder, so…”

“Moment ruined. Go to sleep.”

“That was a moment? Mi, that was — was that a moment? Hermione?”