Chapter 22

Soon enough, the new year started and with that Gryffindor Tower became crowded again. Atlas made it her mission to seek out everyone who had gotten her a gift to thank them, even those who had simply done it as only a gag. Everything steadily went back to normal after that though, as if nothing had happened, there was the odd chatter here or there within the first week, asking how everyone had been, what they’d gotten for Christmas and such.

Then there were lessons starting up again, no one had been particularly fond of venturing outside into the cold of mid-winter but luckily Hagrid – when it came to Care for Magical Creatures – had scheduled for them to look after Salamanders, fire bathing lizards whom – as suggested – bathed in fire. They’d basically been tasked to just keep the fire going all lesson which had been fine by all of the students who had – at some point during the class – each taken a few moments to bask in the warmth of the fire.

Professor Trelawney had moved onto teaching palmistry, the art of reading palms, and had told Harry he had the shortest life-line she’d ever seen and had said to Atlas she loved purely and truly – that had earned a few giggles from the girls of the class much to a certain someone’s dismay – which would perhaps be her downfall as she too, apparently, had a short life-line.

Maths and English lessons had been beyond draining, Herbology had been going quite well for Atlas thanks to Neville – who had taken up the mantle of tutoring her after she insisted with Hermione that she should focus on her own studies – Transfiguration was still easy, Potions with Snape had been infuriating as the man-child made it his personal mission to make Atlas’s life a living hell. All the other lessons she had were alright too, though star gazing in the Astronomy Tower with Hermione had yet to be topped by any other practical class.

Between lessons when Atlas wasn’t studying, training or hanging out with Ron and Harry – Hermione would always be too busy – she was walking around the castle grounds with Cedric, having tea with Hagrid, picking up on the private lessons she had with Minerva, hunting for shoes with Luna, receiving and sending letters to Bella and watching Ginny fly about on her borrowed Firebolt. Sometimes – though rarely as the boy had his own things to do – hanging out with Neville in the greenhouse.

To top it off, everyone, including her, had been buzzing for the Ravenclaw versus Slytherin game that – much to a majorities dismay – ended in Slytherin’s victory. 

According to Wood, this was good news for Gryffindor though, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too. He, therefore, increased the number of team practices to five a week. This meant Atlas didn’t spend much time helping Hermione in the library with Hagrid’s case, which she had been beyond apologetic about. Hermione, of course, ever the sweetheart to Atlas, told her it was ok and that she could manage by herself.

It wasn’t at all convincing, not really, considering Hermione had been emitting a sort of bone-deep tiredness whenever they met. Atlas had – on many occasion – been called down to the library by a ghost to pick the girl up when she’d overworked herself. She’d always done it, of course, without complaint but she was starting to get worried Hermione would faint at some point.

Seemed the immense workload she’d been ploughing through was finally catching up to her and in honesty, Atlas had been surprised it hadn’t caught up to her sooner. Tonight wasn’t any different, whilst January had phased unnoticeably into February, one thing remained the same, Hermione’s nightly study sessions in the common room. She was sat in a corner of the room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody and snapped when she was interrupted.

Even at Atlas who had gone into a short depressive state the first time it had happened, Harry had patted her back for her efforts and Ron had given her a chocolate frog but it didn’t pull her out of it. She was getting more worried for the girl the more days passed by because at the rate Hermione was going, she’d work herself to death.

“I don’t know how’s she’s doing it?” Ron muttered and Atlas quickly glanced up at him from her Undetectable Poisons essay Snape had given her. Harry did the same, glancing over to Hermione who was hunched down behind a tower of books. The height of it could rival the length of Snapes abnormally large nose, Atlas had commented once.

“Doing what?” Harry asked.

“Getting to all her classes!” Ron said. “I heard her talking to Professor Vector, that Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday’s lesson, but Hermione can’t’ve been there, because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me she’s never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she’s never missed one of them either!”

“Wait…really?” Atlas asked and Ron nodded, “But…that’s impossible, how could she have been in two places at once?”

“I know! That’s what I’ve been bloody saying!” Ron shouted.

“Hermione’s just amazing like that,” Atlas shrugged, turning to Harry whom she noticed had been staring at her rather intently, “Yes Harry?”

“Do you know what a Dementor’s Kiss is?”

“Unfortunately, I do,” Atlas nodded, looking over at him with narrowed brows, “Why?”

“Well…” He seemed to shuffle under her stare, “Well…the Dementors…they’ve been given–“

“Permission to suck the soul out of Sirius’s body, I know,” Atlas finished, looking back down at her homework, “Minerva told me, sat me down with that look of grief she has when she wants to tell me something I might not like.”

“You might not like?”

“I would never wish a Dementors Kiss on anyone, Harry,” Atlas stated cooly, glaring into his surprised green eyes, “I’d rather my dad died, to be honest, the only one I’d wish a Dementors Kiss on would be Voldemort–” Ron winced, “–and it’s unlikely a Dementor would do that considering they’re basically one and the same.”

“I suppose…”

“Look…Harry, I know you think Sirius might deserve it but…a Dementors Kiss, it’s…if you ever had to sit and witness it happen, you would feel the same. I would sooner personally kill him before I’d let him get his soul sucked out by one of those filthy creatures,” Atlas scowled, hand clamping tight around her quill, so tight she snapped it, the ink cartridge exploding in her palm. 

“You saw one happen?” Ron asked this time.

“Wish I hadn’t,” Atlas murmured, cleaning the ink on a spare bit of parchment before clearing the rest that stained her palm with a simple flick of her wand. “It wasn’t on purpose and I only saw a glimpse but a glimpse was enough…what brought this on anyway?”

“Oh well…I just thought you should know. Professor Lupin told me, he’s been teaching me something called a Patronus Charm,” Harry said and Atlas tensed, slowly looking up at him.

“A Patronus Charm?”

“Yeah, it’s this thing that–“

“No, I know what it is,” Atlas interrupted, eyebrows drawing together, “I was just startled, that’s…advanced…magic. Have you made any progress?”

“I was, until…well, I’m not getting anywhere right now,” Harry sighed.

“Oh…well that’s alright,” Atlas shrugged, turning back to her homework, “you should take some time, let it all sink in until you try again.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know, you’re just overwatering it,” The both of them looked at her oddly while a tiny laugh was heard across the room, Atlas looked over to it, seeing Hermione ducking back behind her books. That put a grin on her face.

“Excuse me? Have you gone mental? What do you mean he’s overwatering it?” Ron grinned, laughing heartily.

“Sorry, I’ve been spending a lot of time with Neville,” Atlas smiled, glancing over at Hermione once more and waving when she caught her eye. Hermione sighed and waved back before going back to her work. “What I mean is…you’re doing too much without giving yourself room to breathe. Like overwatering a plant, if you overwater a plant the soil becomes too moist and the roots can’t take in oxygen.”

“I need that but without the metaphors,” Harry smiled.

“Analogy,” Atlas corrected before continuing, “anyway, you’re overworking your Patronus work without giving your brain and body enough time to cope and relax.”

“Right…so what you’re saying is…no more Patronus work?”

“Exactly,” Harry made a face, “Oh don’t look at me like that, it’ll be temporary, just so you can get your bearings back.”

“You’re starting to sound like Hermione,” Ron commented and Atlas smirked, leaning back in her chair.

“Thank you for the compliment,” She retorted, catching Hermione’s smile in her peripheral. “Anyway, we should get back to Snape’s essay.”

“Right, don’t want him to give you another detention,” Harry grinned.

“Swear he hates you more than Harry,” Ron laughed and Atlas kicked him under the table. “Bloody hell! It was a joke!”

“Your grades are a joke,” Atlas retorted.

“They are not!”

***

Readjusting her bag, Atlas bound up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower a book on Astrology tucked under her arm for later study. She’d just been to the library, reading up on all things Potions for her up and coming Deadly Poisons and Antidotes mock exam. It had been pretty hard to concentrate, with thoughts of Hermione passing out being quite persistent at the front of her mind. The girl had not been giving herself a break and they’d barely spoken, even in the rare moments they found themselves alone. She was starting to look like Professor Lupin after a bad full-moon, or like Neville when Professor Snape called him to the front of the class for a demonstration.

A hand clamped around her shoulder and she startled, looking down at Harry who was grinning from ear-to-ear, a broom in his hands and his Gryffindor Team letterman jacket proudly on show, mirroring Atlas who had hers on as well. Katie had been right when she said they were comfortable, warm too, perfect for the winter weather they were still experiencing. “You got your Firebolt back?”

“Sure did,” Harry nodded.

“Brilliant,” Atlas smiled. Just then, Ron came zooming around the corner, looking exactly as Harry had when Atlas first turned to him a moment ago.

“She gave it to you!?” He called out, walking with them and Harry nodded vigorously, “Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on it? Tomorrow?”

“Yeah…anything…” Harry said, with a look of absolute bliss on his face. He turned to Atlas who still had a thoughtful expression on her face, not at all looking as excited as he and Ron did, “Atlas? Are you alright?”

“I’m worried about Hermione,” Atlas admitted, chewing on her thumb-nail anxiously, “have you noticed how angsty she’s getting? I saw her arguing with her bed-post last night! Her bed-post, Harry!”

“Alright, alright,” Harry eased, squeezing his friend’s arm reassuringly, though it didn’t do much and Atlas dug her hands in her pockets, glaring at the ground, “How about we talk to her?”

“She’ll shout at me…” Atlas muttered.

“No she won’t, come on,” Harry smiled, looking back at Ron with a smirk as they turned into the corridor to Gryffindor Tower, only, they were welcomed by the sight of Neville Longbottom, pleading with Sir Cadogan, who seemed to be refusing him entrance.

“I wrote them down!” Neville was saying tearfully. “But I must’ve dropped them somewhere!”

“A likely tale!” Sir Cadogan roared. Then, spotting Harry, Atlas and Ron: “Good even, my fine young yeomen! Come clap this loon in irons. He is trying to force entry to the chambers within!”

“Oh, shut up,” Ron snapped as they grew closer, Neville turned to Atlas miserably who smiled sympathetically and patted his head.

“I’ve lost the passwords!” Neville rushed, snot dangling from his nose. Atlas reached into her bag and pulled out a bundle of tissues, handing them to him tentatively, “Thank you–” he blew his nose into them, “–I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don’t know what I’ve done with them!”

“Oddsbodkins,” Harry said as Atlas put her arm around the boy and guided him through the painting – that had opened quite reluctantly. At once the house was upon Harry and his Firebolt, excited murmurings and chatter erupting through the common room. Atlas excused herself and pulled Neville away from the crowd, motioning for him to go up to bed. He looked incredibly tired, if only Hermione would listen to her when she told her to go to bed like Neville did.

“Thank you, Atlas,” Neville sniffled and Atlas waved him off with a smile.

“You get some rest, Neve,” she urged and he nodded, slinking up into his room out of sight. She sighed and glanced over at Hermione, the girl – as always – absorbed in her studies. She took a breath and walked over to her, heavily dropping down beside her. “hey.”

“Hey, you,” Hermione offered, eyes still trained on her work, though it looked as if she wasn’t taking any of it in. Atlas bit her lip and reached over to the book, taking up its cover and gently closing it. That alone earnt a sharp glare, “What are you–!?”

“I’m worried about you,” Atlas cut off, eyebrows furrowed. Hermione’s breathing hitched and her eyes went slightly wide, before – with a slight slump of defeat – she groaned and collapsed into Atlas’s chest, “there we go…” Atlas smiled, hugging her carefully but tightly. “Merlin Hermione…” she glanced around at all the parchment and books surrounding them, “you building a house?”

There was no response so Atlas frowned and looked down to see Hermione had closed her eyes and fully emersed herself in Atlas’s jacket. “Hey,” Harry announced, sitting down beside her and eyeing Hermione with a light smirk, “She asleep?”

“I don’t–“

“No,” Hermione sighed, pulling back and letting go of Atlas who did the same – with obvious reluctance. “I see you got your Firebolt back.”

“Yeah,” Ron joined them, looking down at the broom in Harry’s arms eagerly, “see Hermione, there wasn’t anything wrong with it.”

“Well — there might have been!” Hermione snapped, “I mean, at least you know now that it’s safe!”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Harry nodded. “I’d better put it upstairs.”

“I’ll take it!” Ron said readily, hands already open and expecting, “I’ve got to give Scabbers his rat tonic.”

“Alright,” Harry smiled, handing it over to the boy who held it as if it were made of glass. Atlas watched him amusedly, seeing as he practically tiptoed up the boys’ staircase.

“How are you getting through all this stuff?” Harry suddenly asked and Atlas turned back to look at the two, eyeing Hermione who seemed to fidget nervously at the topic.

“Oh, well — you know — working hard,” Hermione shrugged and in the firelight, Atlas’s earlier thought that Hermione looked a lot like Professor Lupin did after a shift was holding true. 

“Why don’t you just drop a couple of subjects?” Harry asked, and Atlas watched as she slowly lifted books, searching for her rune dictionary. She moved to do it instead, placing a gentle hand on Hermione’s, before she stood and with scary ease, lifted up a whole stack of books at once, leaving the rune dictionary in plain view for Hermione to pick up.

“I couldn’t do that!” she said, looking absolutely scandalized as Atlas put the stack back down, slumping beside her again.

“Arithmancy looks terrible,” Harry grimaced, picking up an immensely complicated looking chart of numbers, Atlas grimaced too, she could barely keep up with basic math.

“Oh no, it’s wonderful!” Hermione said earnestly, patting Atlas’s arm in thanks for her help, blindly. “It’s my favourite subject! It’s –“

Why exactly Hermione thought Arithmancy was so wonderful, the pair would never know as at the same moment a strangled cry erupted from the boys’ dormitories. The whole common room fell into a terrified silence, Atlas stood up with her wand out, staring fiercely at the staircase. It took a moment of quiet before great big thumping footsteps came crashing down the stairs and soon, Ron appeared, dragging behind him a bedsheet. His bedsheet.

“Look!” he bellowed, rushing over to their table and sending a few of Hermione’s books tumbling, “Look!” He continued to shout, waving the sheets in their faces.

“Ron, what is it?” Atlas asked hurriedly, tucking away her wand in her back pocket.

“Scabbers! Look! Scabbers!”

Atlas eyed him funnily as she stepped in front of a trembling Hermione, the girl looking just as bewildered as the rest of the common room. “Ron…that’s a sheet…”

“No! Look what’s on the sheet!” Ron cried furiously. As told, Atlas looked down, spotting a faint red splotch on it, something that looked an awful lot like — “blood!” He yelled into the silence of the room, “He’s gone! And you know what was on the floor?!”

“N-no,” Hermione muttered, eyes blown wide. The boy threw down strands of ginger fur to the table and Atlas let out a solemn sigh. There was no way Atlas could defend Crookshanks this time, she’d told him so many times to cut it out too, and with most animals, it worked but apparently, Crookshanks was feeling particularly rebellious.

“Crookshanks killed Scabbers!”

“That’s impossible! It’s probably fur from Christmas! I’ve had Crookshanks locked up in my dorm all week!” Hermione argued, standing up from her chair. The motion sent another stack of books to the floor, a stack directly towering over Atlas, whose arm was soon crushed by the weight of a, particularly heavy tome. She cried out in pain and clutched her arm to her chest. “Atlas!”

“You’re mental you are!” Ron roared angrily, no doubt torn up by the loss of his pet rat. Harry crouched down beside Atlas warily, the girl taking in breaths through gritted teeth. 

“Atty, I’m sorry! I’m so so sorry!” Hermione rushed, ignoring Ron and bending down to help her.

“It’s fine Hermione…” Atlas seethed, she wasn’t angry at Hermione, she wasn’t angry at anyone, she was just angry because her arm had only just gotten into the final stages of healing and now a giant book had gone and crushed its progress. Wood was not going to be happy.

“I think I should take her to Madam Pomfrey,” Harry frowned.

“Let me help–“

“I think you’ve done enough,” Ron scowled, Atlas went to say something but Harry made a bad motion with her arm.

“Sorry,” He winced but Atlas only nodded, her lips formed into a tight line as he guided her over to the exit. Many eyed her warily, no doubt wondering what their Chaser was going to do in the up and coming Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor match but also wondering if she was going to be ok.

Atlas knew Buckbeaks accidental attack had left lasting damage to the muscle in her arm but it had been months, 7 months to be specific. Of course, Hippogriff attacks weren’t regular attacks as most Hippogriffs had painful venom in their claws to incapacitate their victims, so it was really no wonder she was still feeling its effects after getting hit by three claws instead of Malfoy’s one. Though it probably didn’t help she kept straining the arm.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Atlas nodded, holding the arm steady as she walked down the stairs to the infirmary. They continued downward until they got to the giant doors of the hospital. Atlas braced herself for a scolding and walked inside, Harry going after her, “Poppy!”

“Atlas? Is that–” The nurse came out and immediately sighed, leaning against one of the beds, “How many times!?”

“Sorry,” Atlas smiled sheepishly, walking over to the woman. The nurse took a look at her arm, poking it with the tip of her wand at different angles, earning different reactions from the girl.

“A potion should be enough,” She decided after a moment and both teens let out sighs of relief, “There’s no damage to the muscle, it’s all healed properly, a feat in itself considering that stunt you pulled. What happened?”

“Uh, a book toppled onto her arm,” Harry told.

“Yes, well, I suspect the weight released a few leftover toxins from the Hippogriff’s claws into your muscle,” Madam Pomfrey informed, handing Atlas a rather large vial and instructing her to drink it all, “Drink it all up, my dear. Yes, I suppose the muscles didn’t take kindly to the acid. You’re quite lucky it wasn’t the venom of something like a manticore, the pain from that is twenty-fold, or even a werewolf. The toxin in those claws produces pain forty-fold. Leaving nastier scars than this,” she motioned to the claw marks in Atlas’s arm.

“I’ll take note to not go wandering in the Forbidden Forest on a full moon,” Atlas grinned and looked over at Harry, “there are werewolves that live deep in the Forbidden Forest, Harry.”

Harry blanched and Madam Pomfrey tutted.

“Don’t go scaring the boy,” She scolded and then turned to him, “They’re not werewolves Potter, don’t worry, though they are descendants of werewolves.”

“Descendants?”

“Yeah, two werewolves met on the full moon and decided to get it on,” Atlas waggled her eyebrows and then looked to the empty vial in her hand, cheeks slightly flushed, “What is in this?”

“It’ll make you go quite loopy, my dear,” Madam Pomfrey told, ushering her to the door, “though no more than usual, I suspect.”

“Well, that’s just rude…” Atlas mumbled as Madam Pomfrey wordlessly handed her a chocolate frog and pushed the two of them out of the infirmary. Harry doubled over with laughter as soon as the doors shut and Atlas scoffed at him. “Merlin…hey, do me a favour. Don’t let me get near Hermione while I’m in this state.”

“Why? Do you feel like kissing her or something?”

“What? No! I just know I’d say something stupid…”

“Oh, bummer, I bet she’d love whatever you had in store.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means–” The sound of the giant clock chiming twelve met their ears, “We need to get back before someone catches us!”

“Hey! Finish what you were going to say, you slimy git!”