Chapter 28

Atlas dropped to her knees and pressed her forehead against the grass, sobbing silently into the green, her arm throbbed as her heart did, like a painful reminder of the reason Buckbeak had been sentenced to death in the first place. The three long talon marks will always serve as a reminder of the Hippogriff and what became of him. Her mind flickered to the platinum Slytherin and hate seeped into her heart.

“Hagrid…” She heard Harry mutter and soon felt the cold of the night tickling at her back when Harry moved forward, the cloak slipping off her just the slightest bit.

“We can’t,” Ron said weakly. “He’ll be in worse trouble if they know we’ve been to see him….”

“How — could — they?” Hermione choked, crouching down beside Atlas and pulling the girl to her chest. “How could they?”

“We need to go,” Ron reminded, a quiet chatter from his teeth accompanying the words but Atlas didn’t feel the cold, not physically. She stood up, swaying slightly and let Hermione drag her forward, their sides so close they looked conjoined. The light of the setting sun was dying fast and by the time they had reached the open grounds of Hogwarts it had succumbed to the darkness, the moon hidden behind the clouds, not yet risen to its fullest.

“Scabbers, keep still,” Ron hissed and Atlas stopped, casting a blank look over to the boy as he tried to force the rat further into his pocket. “What’s the matter with you, You stupid rat? Stay still — OUCH! He bit me!”

“Ron, be quiet!” Hermione whispered urgently. “Fudge’ll be out here in a minute –“

“He won’t — stay — put –“

Atlas could see the rat was terrified and was writhing with all his might, trying to break free of his owner’s grip. Her gut was telling her to grab it and lob it as far as she could but she refrained, opting to not murder her best friend’s rat.

“What’s the matter with him?” Harry asked.

Just then, in the corner of her eye, Atlas saw the wide yellow eyes glinting in the darkness, eyes she had been welcomed to in the nights she would have nightmares. His body was low and his gaze was set in the direction of Scabbers’s squeaks. It was Crookshanks and he looked positively deadly.

“Crookshanks!” Hermione groaned. “No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!”

The little git didn’t listen and grew nearer, pouncing after Scabbers slipped between Ron’s fingers and hit the ground. Ron bounded after him before any of them could stop him. The Invisibility Cloak was pulled off of them and held behind Hermione and Harry like a cape, Atlas opting to just run after the boy, out in the open.

“Ron!” Harry shouted.

Thundering footsteps sounded ahead of them and Atlas shifted her eyes, following after Ron who was zig-zagging after Crookshanks, the cat apparently hell-bent on catching the stupid rat. “Get away from him — get away — Scabbers, come here –” Ron threw himself to his chest, much like he had done the months before when Crookshanks had chased the rat beneath a set of chest of drawers. “Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat –“

Atlas came to an immediate stop, leaning down to pick up Crookshanks who – surprisingly – fought back, swiping furiously at her face which she kept just out of reach. The cat looked manic and Atlas started to actually sympathise with the smelly flesh bag that was Ron’s rat.

“Ron, Atty — come on, back under the cloak –” Hermione panted and Atlas turned to her. “Dumbledore — the Minister — they’ll be coming back out in a minute –“

The rhythmic pounding of gigantic paws approached them, catching their respective attentions. It reminded Atlas of the sound her own paws made when she sprinted through the Forbidden Forest and further reminded her of the stray dog she had found who would always run right beside her.

The stray dog, who just happened to be bounding towards her from the shadows. To Harry and Ron, its size seemed to startle them but not to Atlas for she was something much bigger than it and not to Hermione who had had several run in’s with Frog in recent months. Its coat was a lot shinier, its body a whole lot stronger and its entire demeanour completely shifted from the loving and playful dog Atlas would hang with to a desperate, missioned predator.

“Dog, what are you–?” Before Atlas could finish the dog had pounced, pushing Harry to the floor, knocking her out of the way and headed straight for Ron. It sprang towards him, the dog’s jaws fastened around Ron’s arm and the boy let out a horrifying cry of pain. Atlas lunged after him, grabbing onto Ron’s leg as the dog dragged both of them closer to a hole in the floor.

With golden eyes, Atlas looked up and tensed. They had managed to find themselves at the trunk of the Whomping Willow, well, she, Ron and the dog were at the base of the trunk. Harry and Hermione had been swiped away by one of the Willow’s branches.

“Atlas! Atlas help!” Ron cried and Atlas gritted her teeth, trying with all her might to hold the dog from taking Ron further but at the same time, she wanted to let go. The dog’s teeth were firmly fixed in the boy’s arm and if she pulled any harder she feared he’d lose his arm. It was hopeless anyway as the dog gave a final tug and Ron’s shoe – the one Atlas had been holding onto – came loose. 

“Shit!”

All she could see now was one of Ron’s legs, which he had hooked around a root in an effort to stop the dog from pulling him farther underground — but a horrible crack left Atlas feeling sick to her stomach. Ron’s leg had broken. Not a moment later, his foot vanished from sight. Atlas darted after him, diving headfirst down the hole beneath the trunk, not knowing what to expect.

She slid, landing on her front but quickly recovering and running after Ron who was still getting steadily dragged by the dog. She had to bend low to keep herself from smacking her head off of the ceiling and her mind was too befuddled with thoughts of Ron and the betrayal she felt from Dog to even consider just where she was walking to.

Soon enough, a patch of dim light through a small opening appeared and she could hear Ron’s cries from where she had moved to. She edged forward and reached for her wand, only to find it missing and most probably lying outside with Harry and Hermione. A curse was uttered through her gritted teeth and she slinked into the swaying room. 

It was dusty, disordered and old looking. Wallpaper on the walls, peeling like a dead-skin, the windows were boarded, stains littered the floor, looking a lot like – to Atlas’s horror – dried blood and every piece of furniture looked as if someone had gone at them with an axe, only this axe had three blades to it and was shaped an awful lot like claws.

It was the Shrieking Shack, she knew because she’d ventured into the place when she’d first shifted into a Dire-wolf and the ripped painting across from her was a supplement of that fact. 

Only, another cry sounded from the top floor and she shook herself from her stupor, cursing herself as she sprinted up the stairs. She turned into an open room without a single thought against it and saw Ron on the floor beside a four-poster bed, clutching at his leg that stuck out a grotesque angle.

“Ron!” Atlas cried, running or to him and dropping to her knees. “Ron! Where’s the stray!? Where’s the dog!?”

“Not a dog,” Ron groaned and shakily pointed across the room, “Atlas…Atlas, it’s a trap, he’s the dog…he’s an Animagus!”

At the mention of her own kind, Atlas spun around, coming face to face with a person she never thought she’d see again, not since she caught a glimpse of him through the bars of Azkaban prison. A shaky breath left her as tears pooled at her eyes again for the nth time that day. Why was she feeling so relieved? So relaxed? Like she wanted to hug him?

“Dad…?” She croaked, her voice so broken and so fragile, she sounded as if she was made of porcelain, a small hopeful child. “You…? Dad…?” she was frozen, she couldn’t form a coherent thought. He was there and she didn’t know what to do. Hug him? Attack him? Speak to him?

“Hello, my little star…” He sighed with what seemed like a flicker of happiness and a glimmer of hope. Happiness? Hope? Wasn’t he supposed to hate her? Wasn’t he supposed to see her as some sort of weapon for Voldemort? 

She stared at him but didn’t really see him, didn’t take in his filthy appearance or his matted hair, the paleness of his skin or the yellowness of his teeth. She saw him as her dad, the one she had seen in the photos of James Potter and Lily Potter’s wedding, the one in the photos she’d seen of his own wedding with her mother. 

“She’s not yours! And she’ll never be yours! She isn’t a means to an end!” Ron bellowed and Atlas was knocked out of her stupor, feeling the tears pelting down her face and only just registering Crookshanks who came padding into the room and settled on the dilapidated bed frame.

Next came Harry and Hermione, the two of them stumbling into the room, wands raised in caution only for them to go flying out of their hands and into Sirius’s after a firm, “Expelliarmus!” left his mouth.

“He was the dog, Harry!” Ron quickly told, “He’s an Animagus!”

Hermione latched onto Atlas and brought her into a hug, trying her hardest to get Atlas to look away from her father as the man took a step closer to the four of them. “I knew you two would come to your friends’ aide,” His voice sounded so strange yet so right to Atlas and she vaguely remembered the sound from when she was a baby, laying in her crib and staring up at the broomstick mobile spinning above her. “Your father would have done the same for me. Your mother as well, little star. Brave of you not to run for a teacher. I’m grateful…it will make everything much easier…”

The words falling from her father’s mouth didn’t register, she was just staring, not seeing, hearing or feeling, just looking. Their eyes locked and Atlas’s golden-brown eyes reflected within Sirius’s sombre grey ones. There was a movement beside her and before she knew it, Harry was advancing on her father. She panicked and lunged, gripping his arms and pulling him backwards, the boy fighting against her firm hold.

“No, Harry!” Hermione hissed in a terrified whisper.

“If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us too!” Ron said fiercely. Standing up with a great amount of difficulty as he hung off of Atlas’s shoulder, the girl still restraining her godbrother. Something akin to a worry of sorts flitted through Sirius’s eyes as he looked at Ron’s state.

“Lie down,” he said quietly. “You will damage that leg even more.”

“Did you hear me?” Ron croaked weakly, clutching Atlas’s shoulder so hard she grimaced. “You’ll have to kill all three of us!”

“There’ll be only one murder here tonight,” Sirius said and a grin formed on his face, looking manic and crazed, like a person starved of something they’ve longed for for so long. Atlas felt as if a knife had been pushed into her gut. Why was this all so confusing? Why was she conflicted? Her head screamed for her to detain the prisoner while her heart longed for her to hug her father.

“Why’s that?” Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free of Atlas who was slowly losing the grip she had on him, her thoughts consuming her. “Didn’t care last time, did you? Didn’t mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew…What’s the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?”

“Harry!” Hermione whimpered as Atlas faltered. “Be quiet!”

“HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!” Harry roared and threw his head back, smashing it against Atlas’s face. The girl groaned and stumbled backwards, thoroughly knocked out of her daze as an almost crippling pain shot through her face. 

By the time she’d recomposed herself Harry was far from her grip and had Sirius against the wall, punching in any place his fist could land as the man himself wrapped his hand around Harry’s throat. Atlas panicked, she was torn, her soul telling her to stop the both of them while her brain screeched for her to help Harry in whatever he was doing.

Though, she didn’t get a chance to act on either as Hermione darted forward and landed a kick straight to Sirius’s side, the man crumpling to the floor; Ron threw himself on Sirius’s wand hand, four long rods of varying wood rolling across the floor. Atlas lunged for her wand, tumbling across the ground and landing beside Crookshanks who had just had his well-being attempted by Harry who had reequipped his wand.

“Get out of the way!” Harry shouted and both Ron and Hermione moved. Atlas remained fixed in her spot, glancing over to Hermione who was gasping for breath with a split lip and to Ron who collapsed onto the four-poster bed, panting, green-faced and clutching his broken leg. 

“Going to kill me, Harry?” Sirius muttered as Harry drew closer to him. Atlas bit her bottom lip, fists clenched tight. What did she do? What could she do? Did she have any right to take this away from Harry? He was hurting but she was too. Seeing them fight hurt her in a way she couldn’t explain. She should be cheering him on, readying herself to back her godbrother up but all she could do was watch.

Just like that, the room came to a stand-still, Harry standing over Sirius with his wand against the prisoner’s heart, Sirius himself staring up at the boy through sunken eyes, one of them quickly swelling, Hermione trying hard to steady her breathing and Ron silent whimpering in the background. 

Static noise rang through Atlas’s ears.

“You killed my parents,” Harry said, his voice shaky but his hand still.

“I don’t deny it,” he said very quietly and Atlas’s heart clenched. “But if you knew the whole story.”

“The whole story?” Harry repeated incredulously and Atlas managed to move one of her feet, inching it ever so slightly forward as if she were a tree uprooting itself. “You sold them to Voldemort. That’s all I need to know.”

“You’ve got to listen to me,” Sirius said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now, spurring Atlas on to take more steps forward. Hermione reached for her but ultimately missed as Atlas pulled away. “You’ll regret it if you don’t…You don’t understand….”

“I understand a lot better than you think,” Harry breathed shakily, eyes shining with tears. “You never heard her, did you? My mum…trying to stop Voldemort killing me…and you did that…you did it….”

Before Atlas could get any closer, something ginger streaked past her; Crookshanks leapt onto Sirius’s chest and settled himself there, right over his heart. Her father startled slightly and looked down at the cat in surprise.

“Get off,” he murmured, trying to push Crookshanks off him.

But Crookshanks sank his claws into his robes and wouldn’t shift. The cat turned his head to meet Harry’s deadly glare and Hermione heaved a dry sob. However, Atlas’s resolve was solidified by the simple act and she quickly moved forward, grabbing Harry’s shoulder and pulling him away.

“Do you want to become a murderer, Harry?” Atlas asked, her voice was cool, steely and unlike anything any of them in the room had heard before, Ron went very still, Hermione took in a sharp intake of breath and Harry’s raised wand faltered. Crookshanks purred and pruned against her legs as she stared at her godbrother, wand still at her side while Harry now had his raised at her.

“Get out of my way,” Harry gritted and when Atlas didn’t move he quickly advanced on her, digging his wand into her throat, “Get out of my way!”

“Harry, don’t!” Hermione screamed.

“Why are you on his side!?” Harry cried, completely ignoring Hermione whose arm was being firmly held back by a clearly confused Ron. The boy looked betrayed and it made Atlas’s stomach churn. 

Muffled footsteps echoed up from the bottom floor, cutting off whatever answer Atlas was going to give him and instead she turned to the door. Someone was moving around downstairs.

“WE’RE UP HERE!” Hermione screamed suddenly. “WE’RE UP HERE — SIRIUS BLACK — QUICK!”

In no time at all, the door to the room burst open in a burst of bright red sparks and Atlas startled. It was Professor Lupin, his face was ashen and his wand was raised, his eyes flickered upon her momentarily, then to Ron, lying on the floor, over at Hermione who was cowering next to the door, to Harry who was still aiming at Atlas and finally to Sirius.

“Expelliarmus!” Lupin shouted.

All four wands flew to his open palm and he caught them deftly, moving to stand beside Atlas who he nodded at with a smile before turning down to look at Sirius, his face suddenly tense. “Where is he, Sirius?”

Very slowly, almost painfully slow, Atlas watched her dad raise his hand and point over to Ron, the boy looking bewildered and incredibly frightened at the gesture.

“But then…” Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, “…why hasn’t he shown himself before now? Unless” — Lupin’s eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Sirius, something none of the rest could see, “– unless he was the one…unless you switched…without telling me?”

Sirius nodded and Atlas glanced between the two of them, watching – not listening to Harry who was asking questions behind her – and waiting as Lupin seized Sirius’s hand, pulled him to his feet so Crookshanks fell to the floor, (He then quickly climbed onto Atlas’s shoulder, scaling her like a tree) and embraced the escapee like a brother.

“I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” Hermione screamed. Lupin let go of Sirius and turned to her. She had raised herself off the floor and was pointing at Lupin, wild-eyed. “You — you –“

“Hermione–” Lupin tried.

But Hermione persisted, “you and him!”

“Hermione, calm down–

“I didn’t tell anyone because I knew you were good!” Hermione shrieked. “I’ve been covering up for you –“

“Hermione, listen to me, please!” Lupin shouted. “I can explain –“

“I trusted you,” Harry suddenly shouted and lunged forward, his voice wavering out of control. Atlas pushed him back but he didn’t seem to care or notice, “and all the time you’ve been his friend!”

“You’re wrong,” Remus tried and moved beside Atlas, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She was doing the right thing, she knew she was doing the right thing, that tug at the back of her mind telling her to listen to her dad and Uncle Remus overruled the hurt she felt going against her friends. They just needed to listen, she was sure of it. “I haven’t been Sirius’s friend, but I am now — Let me explain….”

“NO!” Hermione screamed. “Harry, Atlas, please! Don’t trust him, he’s been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too — you get away from him Atlas, he’s a werewolf!”

“I know,” Atlas mumbled quietly and Hermione faltered.

“Then…then, if you knew…did you –? No…tell me you didn’t help — didn’t help him…” Hermione’s voice cracked, tears welling in her eyes, she didn’t seem to believe her own accusation, she didn’t even seem like she wanted to say it at all and the way she bit her bottom lip to stop it from quivering had a pang of pain jolting straight through Atlas’s heart.

“She didn’t,” Lupin answered for her as Atlas was just staring at her silently, “And neither did I. Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione,” he continued. “Only one out of three, I’m afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don’t want Harry dead. However, I won’t deny that I am a werewolf.”

Atlas noticed from the corner of her eye, Ron, trying to get up again but ultimately falling back to his behind and then how Lupin made toward him out of concern but Ron quickly crawled backwards in a panic. “Get away from me, werewolf!”

“Don’t be prejudice you twat,” Atlas scowled and Lupin placed a hand on her shoulder, her rigid form melting slightly at the touch. She frowned and tentatively wiped at her nose, trying but failing to get the taste of blood from her mouth thanks to Harry’s headbutt to her nose.

“How long have you known?” Lupin asked and Atlas turned to see he was looking at Hermione who had her eyes still firmly fixed on her. She looked desperate, pleading and Atlas faltered, quickly looking away as a knot caught in her throat.

“Ages,” Hermione eventually whispered. “Since I did Professor Snape’s essay…”

“He’ll be delighted,” Lupin stated coolly. “He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant…Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the Boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?”

“Both,” Hermione said quietly.

Lupin seemed to force a laugh. “Atlas was right, you really are the cleverest witch of your age.”

“I did tell you to watch yourself, Uncle Remus,” Atlas muttered, crossing her arms over her chest, she felt Hermione’s eyes on her again.

“Clearly, I’m not,” Hermione mumbled. “If I’d been a bit cleverer, I’d have told everyone what you are!”

“Then that would make you a horrible person,” Atlas retorted, meeting the girls gaze again. She instantly regretted it.

“Yes, well, you did tell me I should mind the emotional consequences saying certain things could have on someone, didn’t you Atlas?” Hermione muttered and Atlas remained quiet, her arms uncrossing as she shuffled uncomfortably.

“It needn’t matter if you reported me, either way. They know,” Lupin told, patting Atlas’s head. “At least, the staff do.”

“Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf,” Ron gasped and Atlas glared at him. “Is he mad?”

“Some of the staff thought so,” Remus nodded with a small smile. “He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I’m trustworthy –“

“AND HE WAS WRONG!” Harry yelled. “YOU’VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THIS TIME!” He pointed at Sirius and Atlas turned to follow his finger, seeing her father with his head hidden in one of his shaking hands. That wasn’t the stature of a murderer, that was the stature of a broken man. Crookshanks leapt from her shoulder and over to him, purring as he situated himself in the ex-prisoners lap.

“I have not been helping Sirius,” Lupin sighed. “If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll explain. Look –“

He gave the teens their wands respectfully and Atlas rolled hers around in her palm, eyeing it and then turning to look up at Hermione. She bit her lip and stepped forward, holding her wand out to her, “take it…if — if you don’t trust me anymore…”

“Atty…what are you doing?” Hermione whispered with a small croak to her voice and Atlas winced at the sound, her wand still held out in her now trembling palm.

“I don’t know…” Atlas admitted and watched as Hermione reached up with a shaky hand, taking Atlas’s wand between her fingers. It hurt a little but Atlas managed a weary smile as Hermione pulled back. 

Only, she didn’t tuck it in her pocket, instead, she reached forward and tucked it in Atlas’s.

 “Mione?”

No words came and instead, Hermione hugged her arm and pulled her to stand with her, decidedly not meeting Atlas’s eyes even when the youngest Black continued to bore her gaze into the top of the girls head. “This…this is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done…acting on emotion rather than logic…what is wrong with me?” Hermione then whispered faintly.

“Now,” Lupin suddenly sounded and Atlas snapped her gaze to meet his, “You’re armed, we’re not. Now, will you listen?”

“If you haven’t been helping him,” Harry began, he was trembling from head to toe, teeth gritted angrily, “how did you know he was here?”

“The map,” Lupin stated, “The Marauder’s Map I took from you when Snape caught you wandering the halls. I was in my office examining it –“

“You know how to work it?” Harry asked suspiciously and then it clicked, Atlas finally remembered just why the name’s donned on the map had been so familiar.

“Because it was his…” she muttered, turning to look at Lupin and then her father who was staring over at her from the bed, a hint of pride in his otherwise hollow eyes. “Moony…that’s you isn’t it Remus? Padfoot, that’s you, dad. Prongs is James –” Harry tensed up, “– Maneface is mum and Wormtail…that’s Peter Pettigrew. They were nicknames…”

“Yes…yes they were,” Remus smiled and then seemed to frown, “The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening because I had an idea that you four might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his Hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn’t I?”

He had started to pace up and down, looking at them. Little patches of dust rose at his feet.

“You might have been wearing your father’s old cloak, Harry–“

“How d’you know about the cloak?”

“The number of times I saw James disappearing under it…” Remus waved off impatiently. “The point is, even if you’re wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder’s Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid’s hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else.”

“What?” Harry scoffed. “No, we weren’t!”

“I couldn’t believe my eyes,” Lupin continued, ignoring Harry as a dark trail formed in the floor where he paced. “I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?”

“No one was with us!” Harry argued and Atlas furrowed her brows. What was Remus getting at?

“And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labelled Sirius Black…I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow, followed by Atlas –“

“One of us!” Ron said angrily.

“No, Ron,” Lupin stated firmly as he stopped his pacing, eyes roaming over Ron. “Two of you–” Atlas stared between them, Hermione clutching her arm tighter, “–Do you think I could have a look at the rat?” he said evenly.

“What?” Ron panicked, eyes blowing wide. “What’s Scabbers got to do with it?”

“Everything,” Remus said coldly. “Could I see him, please?”

There was a second of hesitation before Ron put his hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Ron had to seize his long bald tail to stop him from escaping. Crookshanks stood up, back arched and bristled. Remus moved closer gazing intently at Scabbers with his breath held.

“What?” Ron said again, holding Scabbers close to him, looking scared. “What’s my rat got to do with anything?”

“That’s not a rat,” Sirius croaked suddenly.

“What d’you mean — of course he’s a rat –“

“No, he’s not,” Lupin said quietly. “He’s a wizard.”

“An Animagus,” Sirius muttered, looking pointedly at Atlas and then to the rat, “by the name of Peter Pettigrew.”