Chapter 38

Rain practically assaulted Atlas as she ducked outside to greet Minerva home. She was sheltering in her carriage, a Thestral at its front pawing impatiently at the ground as it waited for Minerva to leave its charge. Atlas eyed it curiously. Though it was a beautiful creature, mysterious and absolutely mesmerizing, it reminded Atlas of things she’d seen in her past. For the requirements of laying her eyes on such a beast were not the kindest and she would rather leave them behind if she could.

Tearing her gaze away from the dark creature, Atlas held out her hand for Minerva to take, her other hung over her eyes to stop the rain from pelting upon her sight. The woman took it tentatively, eyeing the sky gravely for a split second before committing to the task and quickly scurrying after Atlas. Minerva went in first, Atlas shutting the door behind her and running a wet hand through her equally as sopping wet hair.

“Your clothes are usually enchanted with Impervius, Minerva. What happened to them?” Atlas asked, taking off her shoes and tossing her jacket over the rack by the roaring fire. Of course, she could have used magic to dry them but there would always be a horrid smell of dampness that would cling to the clothing when she did. Drying them by the fire may have been slower but at least her clothes wouldn’t smell like wet dog.

“This is a new dress, I hadn’t the chance to enchant it and didn’t know the weather would be so abysmal,” she admitted, looking down at herself as thick lines of rainwater dripped and made a puddle around her. “I was going to wear it to the opening ceremony but it looks like I’m out of luck.”

“Toss it by the fire, it’ll be dry by the time it starts,” Atlas urged with a shrug and made her way to her bedroom, leaving her door the slightest bit open so she and Minerva could chat as they changed. “How was France?”

“Quite wonderful actually, not as dreary,” Minerva replied and Atlas could hear the woman pulling on her nightgown, the little bells that lined the hems of her sleeves jingling quietly. “Ah, I took the liberty of collecting your new uniform. I’ll place it just outside your door.”

“Thank you,” Atlas called. The woman’s footsteps advanced and retreated further back into the living room, leaving Atlas the ability to grab her new clothes in peace. She quickly put them on, adjusting each piece to fit her perfectly. Her old uniform had been quite baggy but this time Minerva had made sure to get her exact measurements so the tailor could do a better job. “Good news! It fits!”

“Excellent, dear,” Minerva seemed to hum approvingly and Atlas ventured outside her bedroom, her tie still hanging loosely around her neck. “You still do not know how to tie a tie, do you?”

“Hermione said she’d teach me,” Atlas excused with a wave of her hand and then looked down at herself. “It’s a shame it’ll soon be ruined, ‘ey? With that ghastly weather outside.”

“Truly,” Minerva agreed with a sigh and adjusted her square rimmed glasses in thought, looking out through the window and at the thick curtain of rain still turning the castle into a glowing shadowed blur.

“So, what were you doing in France?”

“You’ll soon find out, Atlas.”

“Come on…you can tell me, I won’t tell anyone,” Atlas smiled, nudging her godmother without any real strength behind it. The woman sent her an unconvinced look so Atlas resigned and threw her hands up, “Alright so, perhaps I would tell Hermione but that’s all.” Another look. “Ok, Ron and Harry too.”

“No Atlas, I cannot tell you. That is my final answer,” Minerva finalised and Atlas huffed out a breath of annoyance, grumbling and pouting as she walked into the kitchen and poured herself a brew of hot chocolate. She purposefully ignored Minerva’s cat designed mug and sauntered into the living room casually and undisturbed. Though she noticed, Minerva did not speak on it and instead smiled disbelievingly. “So, dear, how was the Quidditch Cup?”

“Deatheaters aside?”

Minerva seemed to stiffen so Atlas quickly shifted the topic.

“It was amazing, the players were amazing, in sync as if they could read each other’s minds. Like Fred and George. A real team. Krum was fantastic, I’ve never seen flying quite like his. With practice, I think I could pull off a couple of his tricks but the moves specialised for Seekers? Not a chance,” she gushed, plopping down in her armchair and taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “I can’t wait to start flying again–” Minerva made a face Atlas didn’t catch, “–feeling the breeze against my cheeks. Oh! I saw a few people at the Cup…none of them recognised me, though. Even Hermione seemed quite startled. Not you though! You came in and didn’t even bat an eye!”

“Yes, well, I’ve known you much longer, haven’t I? I’m used to your spontaneous growth-spurts. It reminds me of your mother in a way, she too, would show rapid change but in different regards. First, it would be her magical capabilities – as yours did when you were younger – and then her thirst for knowledge, which had gotten to a point it was near unquenchable,” Minerva recalled with a fond expression. “She was quite…–“

“Excentric?”

“Yes, that would be the perfect word to describe your mother. Though she had her serious moments where she would calm to an unnerving degree. It was quite frightening actually…seeing her switch off so easily,” Minerva continued, a tight frown pulling at her lips.

Atlas didn’t mention it though, wasn’t at all moved by it, in fact, she was just happy Minerva had finally opened up to talking about her late mother. Before, Minerva would turn her nose up at the subject, avoiding and blanking it completely but now the words had flown seamlessly from her mouth.

“Ah…” the clock at the end of the room chimed, signalling the arrival of the students for the new year. Excitement flushed throughout Atlas’s body as she stood and tucked her wand safely in her waistband. “Look’s like it is time to go, Atlas. We shall wait for them in the Great Hall. Understand?”

“Yes Professor.”

“Excellent.”

“Say…professor? Who’s our new DADA teacher?”

“I don’t think I’m permitted to say…though I do think you’ll get along,” she smiled slightly and collected her dress from by the magically enhanced fire, touching and prodding at it to see if it had dried. “Ah, wonderful. As you said it’s dried. I’ll quickly get changed and we can go, this time I’ll wear my enchanted cloak over top.”

Atlas grinned and nodded at her godmother in acknowledgement as the woman walked to her room to get changed again. Wordlessly, Atlas pulled on her shoes and gloves, regarding her unworn cloak a second before pulling out her wand. “Impervius,” she muttered under her breath, remembering the wand movement Hermione had shown her. A faint glimmer encircled the cloak, signifying its enchanting. It wasn’t noticeable to a huge degree but it could be seen if one were to look close enough. Though it would disappear after a period of time, along with the enchantment itself. She idly thought she should have done the same to her uniform but remembered how poorly that had gone last time.

Minerva came back a moment later, her deep emerald green cloak pulled over her new dress. Green was the woman’s signature colour, a colour Madam Pomfrey had commented on quite a number of times to Atlas in passing. They really needed to buck up and broach the question of what their relationship was, in honesty, Atlas was getting sick of them dancing around each other. There was a reason Minerva very rarely approached the hospital wing and surely Madam Pomfrey had noticed it, though the woman never actually left the infirmary, so maybe she hadn’t.

“Professor?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“You went to school with Poppy, didn’t you?”

“…you are correct. Why?”

“Did you two have…a thing?” Minerva did a double-take, looking up at Atlas, to the fire, then to Atlas again, mouth opening and closing as she tried to form a sentence. Her eyes had blown wide and there was a faint redness to her cheeks, truly a rare sight to see. Minerva McGonagall very rarely ever got flustered. “I’ll be taking that as a yes…”

“Me and Poppy’s relationship does not concern you, Atlas…I am making steady advancements is all you need to know…outside of school that is,” Minerva finished curtly and Atlas smiled, tucking her hands in her pockets and muttering a spell under her breath to move her hood over her head. “Now, we must leave–” Minerva looked at her pocket watch, a roll of parchment, holding the names of the new students, held firmly in her grasp, “–otherwise we’ll be leaving many new students unsorted.”

“Oh, we couldn’t have that,” Atlas said dramatically, pulling open the door. She was immediately attacked by a thick sheet of rain, smacking into her face but leaving the majority of her dry thanks to the charm. She grimaced and pushed out into it, Minerva following quickly behind. They both ducked their heads to the torrent of rain and hurried up the path to the castle, not a word exchanged between them. If there had been, neither of them heard the other.

Eventually, they came to the Great Hall’s staff entrance and slipped inside, the heat of the hall quite welcome to Atlas as her face had gone entirely numb from the cold of the outside. She took off her cloak and tucked it under her arm, taking in the faint smell of dinner hanging in the air. Atlas had never gotten to try the entrance feast, perhaps a few sausages courtesy of Hermione but otherwise, she hadn’t so she couldn’t wait to fully indulge herself in the food.

“Miss Black,” came Dumbledore’s wistfully calm voice. Atlas turned to him and greeted him politely, dismissing herself from Minerva’s side and venturing over to the man dressed in long silky white robes. His piercing yet cool eyes boring into her over his half-moon spectacles.

“Headmaster?”

“I have a mission for you if you consent to accept,” He began and Atlas straightened, her hands coming out from behind her back and stiffly to her sides. “I see you’re quite ready to take it,” he smiled with an airy chuckle as Atlas nodded. “Good, though it is nothing too taxing. All I wish is that you continue to create ties between ourselves and the two schools who will be joining us this year.”

“Joining us, sir?”

“You will soon find out. I daresay the task will not be hard after considering the friendships you already have with certain individuals from these schools,” Dumbledore said, his bright eyes twinkling with something akin to wisdom.

“Sir, you don’t mean…? Are you perhaps talking about Fleur Delacour of the Beauxbatons Academy and Zasha Volkova of the Durmstrang Institute?” Atlas asked, her mouth gradually splitting into a wide grin. She’d seen Fleur at the Quidditch Cup in passing but hadn’t seen the little runt Zasha since they were 12. The two of them had clicked instantly, quicker than she and Fleur did as they shared a similar parental situation. Zasha was an orphan of the first wizarding war, her parents being Deatheaters killed by Aurors in a bloody battle.

While Zasha had continuously said she hated her parents back then, Atlas always knew she wished they were still alive, hoped they would have been better people if they’d been given the chance. Though both of them knew it would have never happened, Zasha’s parents were proud Deatheaters after all.

“I am,” Dumbledore smiled knowingly and Atlas was visibly elated, her shoulders raising that much she grew an extra inch. “I’ll explain in further detail when everyone is here.”

“Yes! Ok! Right, headmaster, I’ll–” A loud commotion sounded from the entrance hall, just beyond the main doors of the Great Hall. Screaming, laughing and loud bangs of what sounded like water splattering against walls and floors. Atlas turned to it and then glanced back at Dumbledore. He nodded for her to go ahead and she jogged down the steps from the staffs’ table, quickly making her way to the exit door.

She slipped through a gap she’d made and came to a halt just outside, staring up at Peeves who was tormenting the students as they came, bright red balloons full of water getting tossed around in haphazard directions. “Peeves!” Atlas called and everyone turned to her, she looked quite angry, “Peeves, what are you doing!? It’s–“

A red balloon burst square in her face, drenching her entire being, the clothes she’d purposefully tried to keep dry now sopping wet. That just ticked her off even more. Reaching for the wand in her back pocket, she pushed the wet strands of hair from her face, aiming the long stick of wood up at the soon-to-be double-dead poltergeist.

“Peeves, if you continue like this I’ll summon the Bloody Baron!” She warned, taking her wand back and pushing it to her throat in a motion that suggested she was going to enhance her voice to call forth the mentioned being.

Peeves blew a quick raspberry at her, stuck out his tongue and vanished, the red balloons he still had leftover, promptly dropping onto her head. There was now a rather large puddle beneath her, expanding even more as water continued to steadily pour from her form. She should have kept her darned cloak on.

“Go and head inside!” Atlas called with a friendly smile, tucking her wand back into her pocket and flicking her hands around. “Into the Great Hall! The Professors are waiting!”

“I think I counted four balloons hitting you,” A familiar voice slipped in cheekily, his bright green eyes holding a glint of mischief.

“Sure I saw six,” This came from the redhead beside him.

“Are you alright Atty, it’s quite cold, isn’t it? Do you want me to help you warm up?” Came the kind and concerned voice of the bushy-haired and buck-toothed girl at the head of the two boys.

“Help her warm-up, how?” Harry grinned as Ron snorted.

“With magic you idiot,” Hermione hissed, hitting Harry in the shoulder with her bundled up sopping wet robes. It must have been quite a heavy hit as the boy seemed to stumble which almost sent him slipping to his behind. All thanks to Atlas’s puddle. “Nevermind, come on, both of you. We need to get into the Great Hall.”

“Hello, by the way,” Atlas said once she’d sorted herself out and gotten a chance through the bickering of her three best friends. “How have you been through the period you didn’t see me?”

“Oh absolutely terrible, of course, we couldn’t live without you,” Harry sighed and grinned again, throwing his arm around her shoulder as they walked through the wide-open doors of the hall. They were greeted by the sight of a hundred chatting children, laughing, arguing, all sorts but it didn’t move them at all and they continued to the Gryffindor table.

“You know what? Though Harry’s being sarcastic I really do think that was the case for Hermione–” the mentioned girl flushed and ducked her head, “–wouldn’t stop going on about you, kept looking at things and going ‘Atlas would like that’ or ‘I wonder how Atlas is doing’, it was quite annoying actually.”

“Come off it Ron. Hermione was just concerned. You know? Like the good friend she is. Not like you’d know anything about that apparently. Can’t believe you didn’t miss me,” Atlas teased and Ron went red-faced, Harry laughing in the background and Hermione only smiling – a tame reaction compared to the usual ones she would show when Atlas made jokes at Ron’s expense. “You tired, Mi?”

“Hmm? Oh, no. No, I’m just…thinking,” Hermione excused as the four of them sat down. Atlas sent her an unconvinced look but dropped it, running her hand through her hair again and wrapping her cloak around her like a towel. 

Nearly Headless Nick hovered over to them, shimmering as all ghosts did and dressed in his usual doublet, a rather large ruff to go with it which insured his head didn’t wobble too much on his partially severed neck. He stopped just beside Atlas and decided to take a quick seat beside her, beaming at each and every one of them.

“Good evening!”

“Says who?” Harry mumbled as he took off his shoes and emptied them of water. Hermione sent him an exasperated look as Atlas grinned and wrung out her shirt and jumper, a puddle steadily forming beneath her. “Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I’m starving.”

“I second that, I’ve never had the luxury of eating the welcoming feast. Ah, save for a few charitable sausages,” Atlas smiled, nudging Hermione lightly. “Thanks for that by the way, I can’t remember if I ever did thank you.”

“It was no problem, Atty. They were an ice breaker,” Hermione whispered back, their shoulders butting together. “I suppose they weren’t that nice anyway, cold and quite unattractive from where they’d been in my pocket.”

“Yes well, look where those cold, unattractive sausages got us,” Atlas said softly and hooked her arm around Hermione’s shoulder, pulling her into a side hug as the chatter around them continued and Atlas engaged in a new conversation.

“Hiya, Harry!” 

“Hi, Colin,” Harry replied warily and Atlas leant against her palm, leaning forward ever so slightly to get a better look at the kid who’d joined them. A candle flickered to light in her head. Right, he was one of Ginny’s friends, a Gryffindor boy a year below her, Colin Creevey.

“Who’s your friend, Harry?” Atlas asked, noticing how Harry really didn’t know what to say. “Well, I know who he is. Colin Creevey, am I right?”

“Y-yes! And you’re Atlas Magianima!” Colin nodded excitedly and Atlas cocked a brow at the arrangement of her name, everyone usually called her Atlas Black but apparently not this one.

“You’d be right in saying that,” Atlas nodded, adjusting her arm over Hermione’s shoulder as she was subconsciously slipping away.

“Oi, Colin, stop bothering Atlas!” Ginny scolded, coming over to sit in the spot Nearly Headless Nick had been and gone. Though she did this with a cheeky smile.

“I-I wasn’t! I was just here because — oh yes! Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry?” Harry blinked in surprise at the quickness the boy could change his topics. “My brother’s starting! My brother Dennis!”

“Oh — nice,” Harry offered half-heartedly, his smile holding a twinge of unease.

“He’s really excited!” Colin continued, unaware or unbothered by how awkward Harry looked. He was practically bouncing up and down in his seat, the motion sending vibrations through the table and to Atlas who watched in amusement. Ginny was stifling giggles and Hermione was playing with her quill grip idly – the one Atlas had made for her – which she’d clipped to her necklace next to her carving of Crookshanks. “I just hope he’s in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?”

“Er — yeah, all right,” Harry agreed and Colin shuffled down to join the rest of the third years, Ginny doing the same after a quick grin and goodbye to Atlas who waved her off cheerily. “Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don’t they?”

“Oh no, not necessarily,” Hermione chimmed in, tucking her quill back down her shirt and leaning against her palm. “Parvati Patil’s twin’s in Ravenclaw, and they’re identical. You’d think they’d be together, wouldn’t you?”

“Different personality traits,” Atlas reasoned, flicking a spoon in the air and twirling it about with her pointer finger. It looked as if it were dancing. 

“I suppose,” Hermione nodded, plucking the spinning object from the air and setting it back down onto the table. Atlas shot her a look for ruining her fun but ultimately sighed and resigned after falling victim to Hermione’s very own glare. She seemed more frustrated than usual.

“Anyway,” She turned away from Atlas with a huff, directing her gaze to the staff table and nodding. “Where’s the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?” 

Indeed, the chair in which the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would sit was vacant and there was nobody in the room nor outside, from what Atlas had seen, to fill it. Minerva had said Atlas would be quite thrilled with who this new teacher may be, but in that moment, she was feeling rather underwhelmed. She’d just have to wait and see.

“Maybe they couldn’t get anyone?” Hermione said, looking anxious.

“No, we have one. Minerva told me I’ll like them,” Atlas mused. She sighed and ruffled her hair impatiently, leaning backwards against Hermione to tilt her head up at the enchanted ceiling. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it and when another clap of thunder sounded from the outside, a fork of lighting slithered among them. It was quite a glum sight but still, Atlas found herself finding little images in the angry clouds to pass the time.

“Did she tell you who it was?” Harry asked and Atlas shook her head, Hermione huffing as she shifted her shoulder so Atlas lost balance and landed in her lap. Not before smashing the back of her head off of the table. 

A light trickle of laughter came from a few Gryffindors who’d witnessed the scene, Ginny, Fred, George and the entirety of the Quidditch team among them.

“Merlin, what the bloody hell was that for?” Atlas grimaced, holding the back of her head which had steadily begun throbbing from the unexpected pain.

“I-I didn’t mean to do that,” Hermione flushed, looking a little embarrassed as if she were the one who’d fallen into a pretty girl’s lap in front of the entire hall. “Your head was at an awkward angle and it was hurting my shoulder so I moved.”

“You could have just told me…” Atlas sighed, sitting up and cradling the back of her head glumly. “I’ll have to see Fobbo for an ice pack after this…Madam Pomfrey never has any in the hospital.”

“Who’s Fobbo?” Hermione asked, running a gentle hand down the back of Atlas’s head when everyone had turned away.

“Er — right, you don’t know him. Fobbo’s my–“

“Oh hurry up!” Ron whined, practically throwing himself against the table as if he was wasting away, “I could eat a hippogriff…not literally, Atlas.”

“I’m quite glad that’s the case, Ron,” Atlas smirked. 

The doors to the Great Hall opened and silence blanketed the room. Minerva led in a long line of first years to the top of the hall and they looked truly sodden. If Atlas was soaked, these kids had taken a dip in the Black Lake before arriving. One kid draped in Hagrid’s great big Moleskin coat looked as if he actually had taken a dip in the lake and honestly, Atlas thought it was incredibly likely.

“That one looks like he took a swim,” Atlas pointed out and Ron snorted into his pumpkin juice, Harry chuckling quietly to himself as Hermione shook her head in exasperation. Minerva had placed the Sorting Hat atop the three-legged stool at the front of the hall. It was extremely old, dirty patched and looked to be quite judging. Fitting really considering it sorted everyone into their houses by judging the insides of their minds. A long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth and the hat broke out into song:

A thousand years or more ago,
When I was newly sewn,
There lived four wizards of renown,
Whose names are still well known:
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,
Shrewd Slytherin, from fin.
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,
They hatched a daring plan
To educate young sorcerers
Thus Hogwarts School began.
Now each of these four founders
Formed their own house, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones, they had to teach.
By Gryffindor, the bravest were
Prized far beyond the rest;
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest
Would always be the best;
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were
Most worthy of admission;
And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition.
While still alive they did divide
Their favourites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were dead and gone?
Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!
Now slip me snug about your ears,
I’ve never yet been wrong,
I’ll have a look inside your mind
And tell where you belong!

“Need’s tuning don’t he?” Ron said and Atlas grinned.

“That’s not the song it sang when it Sorted us,” Harry said, clapping along with everyone else.

“Sings a different one every year,” Ron said. “It’s got to be a pretty boring life, hasn’t it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one.”

“Sure, it might be boring, but think of all the secrets the hat knows. Seeing into everyone’s minds the way he does, he’s bound to have seen some things,” Atlas mumbled, looking over at the hat with a curious glint in her eye. “I wonder what he saw when he sorted me…”

“A twat?” Harry asked.

Hermione twitched oddly just as Harry yowled and reached for his shin beneath the table.