Chapter 36

“Get a room, would you?”

Atlas and Hermione pulled away from each other, the former shooting a deadly glare over at Bella who was stood, arms crossed and mouth pulled into a smug grin, while the latter suddenly found the floor quite interesting. A sigh left Atlas as she shook her head a motioned over to the Dragon Keeper.

“Hermione, this is Isabella Krase, Bella, Hermione Granger,” She introduced and Hermione looked up at her with a kind smile, hand outstretched.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said politely and Bella cocked a brow over at Atlas who sent her a warning look, daring her to do anything compromising to her image.

“Good to meet you too. I’m sure little Atlas has told you all about her gorgeous older sister?” Bella smirked, her green eyes glinting. Atlas had never really thought about it before but she supposed Bella was quite beautiful. In an annoying sort of way.

“Bella, come off it,” Atlas sighed.

“Fine, fine, I need to go anyway, meeting with the Minister. Hermione, would it be alright if Atlas goes with you? I don’t want her to spend any more of her Summer alone, you see,” Bella smiled and Hermione, taken aback, was speechless for a moment before she chuckled and nodded.

“I’m sure Mr Weasley would be more than welcoming,” She agreed softly, her hand going to latch onto Atlas’s shirt sleeve. “It’s been a treat speaking to you, miss.”

“Just call me Bella and likewise, I hope to bump into you again before the event ends,” Bella winked, casting a wave over her shoulder to Atlas and sauntering over to Minister Fudge; the man engrossed in conversation with the Malfoys’.

“She’s nice,” Hermione mused as she too watched the woman walk away.

“Yeah, until you grow up with the tosser,” Atlas murmured and Hermione shoved her shoulder, scolding her before pulling her over to the rest of the Weasley’s, Harry included.

They were chatting amongst themselves animatedly, agreeing and disagreeing on fouls and scores, debating on who the better team was despite Ireland’s clear win. Harry and Ron had omnioculars hanging around their necks, Harry with an extra one Atlas had deduced belonged to Hermione. Maybe she should have felt bummed about not getting to see the salesmen before the Cup after all. Even though it wouldn’t have mattered because she had watched the match just fine thanks to her abilities as an Animagus, having a souvenir would have been nice.

Pulling her to a stop, Hermione proudly presented Atlas to the group as if she were a well-marked test, the comparison earning a light huff from Atlas who sent Hermione an amused look. “Look who I found!”

Everyone turned to her, three out of the seven – Fred and George still busy with Ludo – looking wholly quizzical while the rest broke out into grins, minus Percy who looked quite stiff, Ginny was surprisingly the first to react, moving forward and hugging Atlas quickly, spit firing questions Atlas never actually ended up answering as Ron and Harry interrupted them and pulled her into a hug.

“Hey!” Ginny objected glumly and Atlas shot her a sorry look, the boys grinning gleefully. Even Ron who was usually awkward when hugging her. It looked like he’d gotten over his crush on her, a crush she had found hadn’t actually been a thing but was something used as an excuse to sift out if she liked girls by Harry. She still used it to tease him on countless occasions, especially in their letters.

“Atlas!” Harry beamed, “I didn’t even notice you! Why didn’t you come over!?”

“I didn’t notice you either,” Atlas admitted.

“The match was awesome right!? Krum was bloody fantastic!” Ron yelled and Atlas nodded with just as much excitement as him, agreeing with every word he said. Krum was certainly an exceptional Seeker.

“We’ve missed you,” Harry said breathlessly, his smile still wide as the two boys pulled away and Ginny moved forward again, her face unimpressed, “Sorry, Ginny. We were excited.”

“So was I!” Ginny hissed and Atlas chuckled, ruffling her hair and turning to look over at Hermione who was just smiling fondly. She reached out and grabbed the girls shoulder, pulling her back into the group.

“What are you doing over there, huh?” Atlas whispered into her ear and Hermione sent her a look.

“Letting everyone else catch a glimpse of you before I steal you away to scold you for sending Harry so many sugary things,” Hermione retorted and Atlas smiled sheepishly, “I’m joking, that’s my parent’s thing.”

“And who might you be?” A voice asked and Atlas turned around, meeting the eye of a middle-aged man she’d never seen before, but by the colour of his hair and his arm around Ron’s shoulder, Atlas easily deduced who he was. Mr Weasley.

“Atlas, sir, Atlas Magianima Black,” She introduced, hand outstretched, the man lit up and took it eagerly, cupping his other around their conjoined hands and shaking them rather vigorously.

“Ah! Truly a treat to meet you, all of my kids talk about you quite a bit! Did you know I worked with your mother? An extraordinary witch, she was!” He grinned and Atlas smiled back, casting amused looks to Ron and Ginny. Ron was stood with scarlet coloured cheeks, reminding Atlas of the Bulgarian Team’s robes and Ginny looked quite sheepish but overall enthusiastic as she nodded in confirmation of her father’s claim.

“Is that so? Yes, I did read something about her working with a few witches and wizards from the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. I’m assuming you’re the Arthur Weasley she mentioned?” Atlas said kindly, not voicing any complaint as Mr Weasley continued mechanically shaking her hand, still quite entranced.

“She wrote about me, that Amaya? Yes, that’s me. We were colleagues, very nice woman, she was,” He confirmed with a hum. The two boys behind him walked forward and Mr Weasley finally let go of her hand, turning to introduce his – presumed – sons. “Ah! Where are my manners? This is my oldest, William and my second oldest, Charlie.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Charlie, Bella tells me you’re good friends?” Atlas said as she shook the short and stocky man’s hand.

“That’s me alright and you’re the little sister I presume?” he grinned good-naturedly and Atlas nodded with a joking roll of her eyes, turning to take up William’s outstretched palm.

“And it’s good to meet you, William. You’re a Curse Breaker, I hear,” Atlas smiled. She’d read all about Curse Breakers, quite an extraordinary group with lives full of adventure, not the type to settle in one place for too long as their jobs required them to go all over the world, hunting tombs, caves, ruins and rainforest. Anywhere that could hold treasures valuable to Gringotts Bank. Perfect for those with an adventurous spirit.

“Call me Bill and yes, are you interested?” He asked, shaking her hand with a grip like Mr Weasley’s. He clearly looked quite eager to tell Atlas all of the pros of being a Curse Breaker and in honesty, she was quite intrigued.

“I was thinking of becoming an Auror like my mum but Curse Breaking sounds exciting,” She admitted and began walking with the group as Fred and George had rejoined them. The group-of-ten made their ways down the purple-carpeted stairs, engaging in idle chatter.

“Yes, it is. Never a dull moment when you’re out in the field,” Bill nodded in agreement, “It’s a very dangerous job mind. You’d end up running into dark creatures on every turn while you’re out there, dark wizards too if the treasure is said to be particularly profitable.”

“What sorts of dark creatures?” Atlas asked in interest and Bill grinned, seemingly approving of her curiosity.

“Well, one time I was faced with a mummy in the tombs beneath the Pyramids on a job in Egypt – I’m stationed there now. Blew it to smithereens, ’cause Mummy’s can just pull themselves together, they’re sort of invulnerable,” He rambled and Atlas took in every word, “Can’t be killed unless their body is completely disintegrated or chopped up and set on fire. Real pains in the arse.”

“I can imagine, so stunning spells and the like wouldn’t work?”

“Nope,” Bill said with a sure shake of his head, “Well, to a certain point perhaps and if it was a particularly powerful one. They might get knocked back a few paces but they’re undead so that’s as far as you can really damage them.”

“Sort of like dragons,” Charlie piped in and Bill smiled, Atlas nodding with enthusiasm, “If your plans on being an Auror fall through and you don’t want to travel all the time, I reckon you’d make a great Dragon Keeper from what I hear from Izzie.”

“I did want to be a Dragon Keeper when I was little thanks to Hagrid’s influence,” Atlas grinned and Charlie laughed, nodding his head as if he understood and knew that was something Hagrid would do and encourage.

The three continued chatting about their works, Charlie touching on his job as Dragon Keeper but mainly gushing about the species of dragons he’s had the pleasure of meeting. Bill continued describing different dark creatures and wizards he’d come across and fought, showing Atlas a gnarly scar at his hip he’d apparently gotten from a Sphinx – apparently he wasn’t all that good at riddles. Then Atlas herself would speak of all the adventures she’d been on in the Forbidden forest, befriending the Centaurs, raising Lyra and her siblings, running from Hagrid’s Acromantula after she’d stumbled into its nest and even her run-in with a wounded Manticore who she’d nursed to health but never seen again.

Overall, it had been a very enjoyable experience for Atlas, she’d gotten some dirty secrets on Bella from Charlie and had been educated on a lot of dark creatures by Bill. She knew quite a bit before but having it taught to her by a person who’d really lived to tell the tale was miles better and she found it more engaging.

Soon though, their conversations had had to be cut short because the noise from the Quidditch Cup goers around them was so loud Atlas couldn’t even hear herself speak. The singing, raucous in her ears, cut through the night, the whizzing of Leprechauns flying by Atlas’s head forcing her to duck at odd moments. They would cackle and wave their lanterns about, sending fireworks into the air in a moment of celebration.

Hermione had migrated to her side through it all, latching onto her hand so they didn’t get separated. Harry and Ron soon joined them, trying their bests to ask Atlas questions over the noise about what she’d been talking about with Bill and Charlie, to which she’d responded with a look of confusion, her mind too befuddled by a particularly loud firework to fully comprehend what they were saying.

They finally got to the Weasley’s tent and as the flap of fabric closed behind them, the noise died down to something muffled, leaving Atlas room to breath. Well, that was until Fred and George broke out into cheers of delight, jumping around the tent and screaming out in celebration. Atlas looked over at them exasperatedly, glancing at Hermione who shook her head with a smile and walked over to Ginny, the two of them engaging in quiet conversation.

Charlie and Bill went over to Mr Weasley, talking about the match that escalated into a disagreement about cobbing. Percy was sat in the corner by himself, going over something in a notepad of his and Ron was stood atop the table, Harry grinning up at him and waving Atlas over. She joined her god-brother in eyeing Ron’s theatrics, hooking her arm around his shoulder.

“What do you think Ginny and Hermione are talking about?” Harry suddenly asked and Atlas glanced down at him questioningly, then looked over to where he was nodding, catching the eye of the two girls. Ginny laughed and Hermione flushed, sending Atlas a small wave which she happily reciprocated.

“Don’t know, probably just stuff,” Atlas shrugged, turning back to look up at Ron as Fred and George danced around him, chanting ‘Krum! Krum! Krum!’ over and over again despite them wearing Irish merchandise.

“Yeah, probably. Anyway, how have you been?” He asked and Atlas cocked a brow, “Just you know…have you talked to Sirius lately?”

“Oh, dad? No, well, I sent him a letter a few days ago, haven’t gotten a response yet,” Atlas informed and Harry nodded in understanding.

“It’s the same for me, I had this weird dream. Pettigrew and Voldemort were there, I’m sure of it and then I woke up, my scar was hurting, so I sent him a letter about it. Asking him what he thought it meant,” Harry told and Atlas turned to look at him, brows furrowed.

“Is your scar hurting a…significant thing?”

Harry went wide-eyed, “Oh right! You don’t know,” he seemed to almost laugh only for his expression to drop into something nervous-looking, earning a worried look from Atlas, “well…it hurts, whenever he’s around.”

“Voldemort?”

“Yeah…I don’t exactly know but it happens sometimes,” he sighed. “He wasn’t there, mind – Voldemort I mean – which leaves me even more confused. Maybe it’s because of me dreaming about him?”

“Well it’s good you told dad then because I have no clue,” Atlas smiled warily, clapping his shoulder, “but if it hurts again, tell me.”

“There’s no one like Krum!” Ron called out, mounting the table and looking around at the occupants of the tent as Fred and George circled him and flapped their arms. Atlas noticed the absence of Mr Weasley but brushed it off and continued watching the display, “He’s like a bird the way he rides the wind! He’s more than an athlete! He’s an artist!”

“Think you’re in love Ron,” Ginny called with a smirk and Atlas huffed out a laugh.

“Shut it…” He grumbled.

“Viktor I love you!” Fred began and Atlas full-on grinned, leaning up against a post in the back of the tent as the singing continued, loud fireworks going on outside, “Viktor I do!”

“When we’re apart my heart beats only for you!” The majority of the tent chorused, even Bill and Charlie joined in. Percy and Hermione the only ones remaining silent, as the former was engrossed in his notepad and the latter was grinning amusedly. More explosions came from outside and the canvas of the tent momentarily lit up in bright orange.

“Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on!” But it didn’t sound like celebration. To Atlas, it sounded like screams, it sounded like rushed running and evil laughter, explosions that weren’t fireworks but bombs.

“I don’t think that’s the Irish…” She muttered and just as she finished Mr Weasley came charging into the tent, face pale and alert. Bill, Charlie and Percy immediately jumped to their feet.

“We need to go! All of you! Now, on your feet!” He ordered hurriedly and Atlas immediately obeyed, rushing out of the tent with the rest of the group at her heels.

Darkness was majority ruling over the campsite by now, but by the light of a few fires that plagued the field, she could see people running in the directions of the woods, screaming and crying out bloody murder whilst blood-curdling roars of distorted laughter – laughter from behind a mask – echoed after them; then came a bright flash of light, illuminating the scene momentarily.

A crowd of cloaked figures walking close together with their wands pointed straight upward marched across the field. Each of them with masks on that resembled something Atlas had never thought she’d see again. “Deatheaters…” she said breathlessly and subconsciously followed the firing line of their wands. High above them, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes, two of them being quite small.

Atlas felt sick as more Deatheaters joined the marching group and laughed up at the marionette-like figures. It was horrifying to watch but in an oddly frozen and entranced way, she couldn’t turn her gaze, no matter how many rocks caught in her throat. Several tents burned, crumpled and flew in her peripheral but she paid them no mind. The screams around her too overwhelming for her to really move.

Then, in an even more twisted turn, when the floating people were illuminated by a burning tent, Atlas watched as one of the Deatheaters flipped the woman of the family of four upside-down with a flick of his wand; her nightgown fell over her face to reveal her drawers beneath and she struggled in vain to cover herself up as those under her laughed and hooted.

“That’s sick…” Ron muttered as the smallest of the children had begun spinning like a top, head lolling limply from side to side. “That is really sick…”

“We need to help them…” Atlas mumbled, taking a shaky step forward as her hand reached to the back of her pocket for her wand. Only, she didn’t get far as a strong hand wrapped around her wrist and Charlie Weasley entered her peripheral.

“Bella would have my head if I let you do that,” He tried with an obviously strained smile, his eyes trying to look at anything but the four figures in the sky.

“We’re going to help the Ministry!” Mr Weasley shouted and both Charlie and Atlas looked over at him. “You lot – get into the woods, and stick together. I’ll come and fetch you when we’ve sorted this out!”

Just like that, the grip around Atlas’s wrist extinguished and she turned just in time to see Charlie, Bill and Percy sprinting toward the oncoming marchers; Mr Weasley tore after them. As quickly as the contact diminished a new one replaced it and soon, Atlas found herself getting dragged away from the hellish scene by a green looking, Harry Potter.

She kept up easily but with the hammering ache against her sides from the cursed wounds Remus had inflicted and the opaqueness of the scene, she found it hard not to stumble. Dark figures lingered along the treeline, children crying while anxious shouts and panicked voices carried through the cold night air.

All joy, all excitement and all happiness had been replaced by pure gut-wrenching fear of what was to come. Atlas blundered and crashed into a person she could not see, Harry’s hold on her wrist subsequently falling out of reach. “Atlas!” he cried out as he tried to spot her silhouette over the figures.

“Harry!” she shouted back, grunting out in pain when someone nudged her hard in her side, sending her reeling against a tree. She tried desperately to catch her breath and peered through the blackness, not wanting to shift her eyes in case someone saw and alerted the entire wood.

Fear clawed at her gut, she needed to get back to the group, especially Hermione. She was Muggle-born and the Deatheaters would no doubt go after her, she needed to be there. The wind returned to her lungs and she set off in the direction the group had been running to but it really was too dark, she couldn’t see a thing.

“Shit…” She cursed under her breath and looked down in the general direction of her shirt. Taking a breath and muttering a sorry to Bella, she ripped a long strip of cloth from her torso, wounding it around her head thrice until she was sure nobody would see the glow of her eyes.

In a second the world around her became clearer and she easily slinked her way through the mass of scared and shaking bodies surrounding her, spotting a large cluster of people in the distance. She couldn’t exactly tell who they were from where she was standing so she got closer, accidentally bumping into a girl she hadn’t seen.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you,” She rushed.

“Ah, it is no problem!” The voice responded and Atlas turned to look at her, eyes widening beneath the cloth in realisation.

“Fleur?”

“Yes zat is me. Who are you?” Her accent was just as thick as Atlas had remembered it, maybe even thicker. That was probably the most likely considering the only times Fleur would ever speak English was when Atlas had spoken to her directly when she was twelve and Fleur was thirteen.

“It’s me, Atlas.”

“Atlas! Oh, it is so good to see you!” Fleur cried out excitedly, hooking her arms around Atlas and hugging her tightly, “It ‘as been too long!”

“It has,” Atlas agreed, still slightly shocked.

“‘Ow ‘ave you been!?”

“Excellent, Fleur really, but — but I need to go,” Atlas told apologetically and then glanced around the wood surrounding her, going back to her search for a particularly bushy head of hair.

“Of course! Of course! Oh, I cannot wait to tell Gabrielle about zis!” Fleur cheered and placed a quick kiss on Atlas’s left cheek, following it up with the right, “We must see each other again, soon!”

“Yeah…it was — uh — good running into you again,” Atlas nodded and sent her a wave she knew she wouldn’t see before taking off in another direction. She was somewhat regrettable she had had to cut it so short but remembered now wasn’t the time to catch up with old friends, now was the time to run after her new ones. New friends that were probably in danger.

Screams erupted from all around her as the wood illuminated in a haze of green and Atlas turned her eyes to the sky as she ran. Her stomach dropped. It was the Dark Mark. A mark comprised of a colossal skull made with what looked to be stars, a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue.

Something caught at her left arm and she grimaced, looking down to see a sharp broken branch had slit open a long gash. She scowled and took her blindfold off, tying it around her arm as a makeshift tourniquet. Her eyes were still shifted, there was no one around to see her after all, and she continued running, her sides throbbing again and her arm slowly bleeding.

A trio of figures became clear in the distance and she recognised the bushy hair that belonged to one of the forms, a smile breaking out across her face. Though it was wiped clean off when at least twenty popping noises resounded around them, wizards and witches appearing from thin air, wands pointed directly at the three.

Atlas drew her wand and lunged forward, pushing the three to the ground as she remained standing.

“STUPEFY!” roared the twenty voices and Atlas countered it with a hearty spell of her own.

“PROTEGO!“