Chapter 57

During breakfast, the morning after her return, Atlas was bombarded with a multitude of questions, some asking about the task while others asked where she had disappeared to. She’d told them all the truth, saying she needed time to heal and recover from her injuries which they seemed to buy. There was a lot less hostility also, many had gone back to wearing the S.P.E.W. badges they had bought from her in favour of the tags dedicated to hating on the two underaged Hogwarts Champions.

In a word, it was better. And Atlas was thankful.

Now was no different, Atlas was going through another run-down on how she’d pacified the Albanian Agoniser, telling the small crowd she had always bonded quite easily with magical creatures since she was young. They were, of course, enamoured, a few people – most not even from her own house – leaning up against the table with their heads in their hands, probably not even paying attention to her story. A good number of them were staring, fixated, at how her jaw worked and though Atlas could feel their gazes none of them were as fiery as the one fixed firmly on the crowd as a whole, those eyes belonging, of course, to Hermione Granger. It wasn’t even aimed at her and she could feel second degree burns all over.

“So, yeah. Dragons are incredibly misunderstood creatures. She was just trying to protect her young,” Atlas finished with a tense smile, noting how they just nodded dazedly and got uncomfortably closer, waiting for something. “Uh…the end?”

“Piss off!” The crowd snapped back to reality, shooting harsh glares to Ginny Weasley who promptly flipped them off and slumped down in the seat beside Atlas, letting out a long deep sigh.

“Thanks…” Atlas breathed, finally turning back to her food.

“No problem. Hey, what does Zasha like?”

“Zash…?” Atlas peered over at the Slytherin table where Zasha was trying to pry her arm away from Tracey Davis and then back to Ginny who clearly looked unhappy. “Quidditch?”

“I already know that.”

“Swimming?”

“I can’t swim…” Ginny flushed.

“Really?”

“Yeah and…I’m deathly afraid of water, I really really hate it…”

“Huh,” Atlas mused and then smiled. “Well…she likes photography, she has a whole collection of really old cameras.”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool…I’ll need to find Colin, later…” Ginny turned back to her food, rubbing the back of her neck quietly. Atlas eyed her a moment before smiling and turning to the other side of her, nudging Hermione quietly. She twisted to look at her questioningly, earning a cheeky grin in return from Atlas.

“Those two have made some progress.”

“Did you not see them last night, sleeping in the Common Room?”

“What? Course not, my attention was entangled and utterly taken by the beauty beside me,” Atlas grinned again and Hermione rolled her eyes, pushing her face away as she turned to look along the length of the table. “Sorry,” She laughed, “saw the opportunity.”

“Idiot.”

A small figure came running into the hall, a package half his height held snugly to his chest as he hurriedly advanced on the Gryffindor table. Atlas watched him, an eyebrow raised and an amused smile on her face, she winced slightly when he tripped up but applauded lightly when he caught himself and continued, shockingly, over to Ron. She and Hermione exchanged a quizzical glance before turning back to the scene.

“P-parcel for you, Mr Weasley!” He stuttered, his cheeks red from the embarrassment of almost falling. Ron took it happily and the boy’s shoulders immediately slackened, a relieved look flashing through his eyes. He seemed to hover, playing with hands as he glanced up at Harry and then Atlas, shuffling under their gazes.

“Thank you, Nigel. You can go now,” Ron waved off absentmindedly, but the boy didn’t move, remaining fixed in his place. 

“What’s up, kid?” Atlas asked, leaning over the table. He grew increasingly fidgety, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. “Words would be great,” that earned a slap to her arm from the bookworm beside her as she shot her a short glare and then turned to the clearly awed first-year before them.

“What is it, Nigel?” Hermione asked kindly as Atlas nursed her arm.

“Uh well — well, Mr Weasley said he’d get me Mr Potter and Miss Magianima’s autographs…” he said quietly and everyone turned to Ron, the boy in the middle of unwrapping his package, he tinted a light red and Atlas laughed, shifting her eyes to Hermione and holding out her palm.

“Can I use your quill?” She asked and Hermione rolled her eyes, unbuttoning the top two buttons of her shirt and loosening her tie to pull the necklace free from the confines of her clothes. Atlas smiled appreciatively as Hermione pulled it from the rest of her necklace and handed it to her, feeling the warmth of it against the callouses and cuts of her hand. “Thanks, Mi,” she turned back to Nigel. “What do you want me to sign?”

Quickly, the boy pulled out a book from his bag, its case was vaguely familiar to Atlas who took it carefully from him and brushed a thumb over its cover. It looked old, the spine, worn from use and the black fabric cover damaged here or there but its title still remained, bold and clear, gleaming golden, as if cleaned religiously. It was her name, ‘MAGIANIMA’, branded into the front. It wasn’t referring to her specifically, of course, rather it was the first and only book her mother had ever written. Not an autobiography, nor a book about her works, rather it was a book about nothing. It was incoherent, nobody had deciphered the meaning behind the mess of words since its publishing, people had said she’d gone mad when she wrote it but that wasn’t the truth, she was just as sane as anybody else, eerily so considering her line of work.

Atlas had never seen one before, had never really looked for the book, she was just content in knowing it existed. She smiled distantly and flipped it open delicately, her eyes dropping to the bottom of the page where a messy signature was written. Her mothers signature, she looked up at Nigel. 

“How did you get her signature?”

“I — I don’t know, Miss…it’s my mum’s book!” He squeaked and Atlas nodded, turning her gaze, instead, to the dedication page.

FOR THOSE WHO REPRESS AND BEAR THE BURDEN OF THE WORLD

She stared at it a moment, silently, before Hermione gave her a light nudge and she pressed the quill to the page, signing her name right below her mothers in a font a tad bit smaller, she took a breath and then slid it back to Nigel. All smiles. He beamed and plucked the book from the table, gazing at it fiercely before, completely forgetting about Harry, bounding out of the Great Hall. A few laughs followed him out.

“I’ve always thought it, but I find your signature rather pretty,” Hermione said, tilting her head in the palm of her hand. Atlas’s signature was rather plain so the girl didn’t understand why Hermione had taken a liking to it, perhaps it was because she drew a star in place of the letter ‘A’ at the beginning of every signature she wrote. 

“That so? You should start drawing a little Ausrumba next to your signatures.”

“Perhaps I might…”

“You should, Mi. I bet it’d be pretty…” Atlas smiled and then looked after where Nigel had disappeared. “I wonder why people say it’s incoherent…”

“What?” Hermione asked, slowly taking the quill back and stuffing it back down her shirt.

“Well, it looked completely normal to me, the dedication page, you know, it said ‘for those who repress and bear the burden of the world’,” Atlas mused and Hermione looked at her weirdly.

“How do you know?”

Atlas now looked at her oddly. “That’s what it read.”

“Atty, that’s not possible.”

“Mi, are you alright? Have you suddenly forgotten how to read?” Atlas smiled curiously but Hermione suddenly looked incredibly serious. “Mione?”

“Atlas, that book is supposed to be impossible to read. As you said, incoherent.”

“I read it just fine,” Atlas argued but before Hermione could delve into just why it was impossible, Ron had finished opening his package, revealing an ugly maroon velvet dress, with frilly lace lining its collar and sleeves. It looked ancient, like something out of one of the many history books Professor Binns had tracing his classroom walls. Atlas stared at it with wide eyes, her mouth falling open at the sight of it, withholding her laugh when Ron stood up and pressed it against himself, looking around in shock.

“Mum sent me a dress…”

“Well it does match your eyes, Ron,” Atlas remarked as Harry rustled through the rest of the packaging.

“Is there a bonnet?” His eyes lit up and he pulled another frilly item from the box, pushing it against Ron’s collar. “Aha!”

“Nose down, Harry,” Ron sighed and then turned to Ginny, the girl looking up from her food. “Ginny these must be for you.”

“I’m not wearing that, it’s ghastly,” She grimaced and Atlas snorted into her apple juice, coughing as the table broke out into laughter, Fred and George the loudest a few seats away. Even Hermione chuckled, shaking her head at Ron. 

“They’re not for Ginny,” She said. Atlas grinned, wiping her face dry with a stray napkin, “They’re for you!”

“They’re dress robes, mate,” Atlas said and Ron dropped the clothes back into their box, face going pale.

“Dress robes? For what?”

“A formal event for the Tournament, the host school always prepares a ball. Seriously, after all these years you two still haven’t read Hogwarts: A History,” Hermione sighed, shaking her head at Atlas who smiled sympathetically. Though, in reality, Atlas was just as lost as the boys, she’d read Hogwarts: A History, plenty of times and had never seen mentions of a ball, maybe she was just blind.

“I’m not wearing these!” Ron cried indignantly. “They’re — they’re–!”

“Ghastly,” Harry offered, fist-pumping Ginny over the table. And Ron went red, he went incredibly red, slamming the lid back onto the parcel. It startled the entire table, a few nearby goblets knocking over but they soon disappeared and new ones took their place. 

“They’re not that bad…” Atlas said.

“You wear them then!”

“They wouldn’t fit,” Atlas refuted easily. “Even if they did, what would you wear?”

“Anything! I’d rather go starkers than wear them!”

“Please don’t,” Hermione grimaced.

“And just like that, my appetite has vanished!” Ginny declared, standing from her seat. “I’m going to save Zasha from the Slytherins.”

“Tell her I said, hi!” Atlas called as Ginny walked away, throwing a wave over her shoulder. 

“Will do!”

***

The entire house of Gryffindor, minus the first and second years, were called into the entrance hall later that evening when all classes had ended and many were returning to their dormitories. Minerva was stood with her hands in front of her, Mr Filch and his red-eyed cat stood just behind by a giant gramophone. There was an excited chatter among the group, a few girls snickering here or there while loud raucous and obnoxious laughter came from the lads. Atlas was sat with her arms crossed and upper body inclined toward Hermione who was talking in her ear over the ungodly volume of the crowd surrounding them.

A simple cough came from the centre of the room and everybody stopped, Hermione, finishing the tying of the little braid she had made at the base of Atlas’s neck throughout their conversation. All eyes were upon Minerva now, an excited buzz hanging over them all as the woman slowly walked over to Mr Filch and slotted a record onto the gramophone, nodding to the caretaker silently.

“Now,” she began as Atlas glanced down to the braid with a small smile. “I am sure you are all wondering as to why you have been summoned here,” she said and many nodded. “This is because, Hogwarts will be playing host to a very special Triwizard Tournament tradition, The Yule Ball. This is an opportunity to socialise with our foreign guests and as representatives of the host school, I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward, and I mean this literally because, the Yule Ball is, first and foremost, a dance.

“The ball will be open only to fourth years and above — although you may invite a younger student if you wish hence why the invitation to this meeting has been extended to the third years.”

Atlas grinned and nudged Ginny with a smirk, “Looks like you need to brush up on your dancing. No doubt Zasha will ask you.”

“Shut up,” Ginny hissed, hitting her in the side. Atlas chuckled and glanced at Hermione who simply shook her head exasperatedly, she took that as her sign to stop the teasing and instead glanced around the room, noting the looks of excitement and intrigue across various faces.

Scattered giggles echoed from a few seats back and when Atlas glanced behind her she realised whom they were coming from. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, the girls living in the dorm across from her and Hermione’s. They were whispering to each other, glancing obviously across the room to where the boys sat groaning and shrinking in on themselves. Well, it was more Lavender but Parvati indulged in a few glances herself. She wasn’t surprised to see their attention on the other Hogwarts Champion.

After all, she hadn’t been the only one to have a sudden spike in popularity since the first task,  Harry had as well. Though he hadn’t been approached quite as much as Atlas had and that, well, that Atlas was envious of. So she managed to ‘tame’ a dragon, so what? Bella did it all the time and it’s not like it was anything strange, there were plenty of Magizoology experts who could do the same. Take Newt Scamander for example, an old friend of her mothers, he was one of the greatest Magizooligist known to the wizarding world before he retired. He could do what she did with his eyes closed.

“Now!” Minerva announced loudly again, letting the Gryffindors get their excited jitters out before she continued. “The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizarding world for nearly 10 centuries. So, hear this and remember my words because I will not have you, in the course of a single evening, besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons.”

“Babbling bumbling band of baboons…” Atlas muttered under her breath and then lightly nudged Hermione, “Hey, Mi, try saying that ten times fast.”

That earnt her a scolding look, however, she did give in after a moment, whispering the words under her breath as Atlas grinned and watched her fumble over the tongue twister. She joined in after a moment and had to withhold a laugh when Hermione ended up spewing random gibberish.

“As some of you do not have any experience in ballroom dancing,” her gaze was flitting across each of the students but she did purposefully stop to stare pointedly at Atlas the longest, “Professor Dumbledore has consented to allow each of the houses an allotted time to practice our footwork,” Minerva finished. “Now, to dance is to let the body breathe. Inside every girl, a secret swan slumbers longing to burst forth and take flight. Inside every boy, a lordly lion prepared to prance — Mr Weasley!”

“Yes…” The boy murmured and Atlas smirked, leaning back in her chair and tilting her head to the side as her best friend was called forward to the centre of the ‘dance floor’.  He looked back to the boys momentarily only to get a few taunting laughs thrown at him instead and when he looked to Atlas and Hermione, while the latter offered him a sympathetic smile, Atlas whistled through her fingers.

“Now, place your right hand on my waist…” Minerva ordered and Atlas blurted a laugh, hiding her face in Hermione’s shoulder.

“Where?”

“My waist, Mr Weasley,” The professor reiterated and Ron had no choice but to obey.

“Steady on, Ron! That’s my God-mother!” Atlas teased, earning a few snickers and the odd wolf whistle from the crowd. Ron shot her a flustered look, Minerva, a sharp glare but she didn’t react, only smirked and accepted the giggled words she got in her ear from the girls surrounding. Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms tightly, Ginny snickering also but not for the same reasons as the majority, more so at the bookworm, for she was scowling heatedly at Atlas and how she fed and mirrored the flirtatious comments whispered hotly upon her ear.

“Now extend your arm…” Minerva continued, “Mr Filch if you please!” 

The music began and Atlas smiled, leaning forward to watch the scene before her, pan out. Minerva guided a red looking Ron across the floor, taking the mantle as the ‘lordly lion’ while Ron was the ‘secret swan’. Though his moves were far from elegant, unlike the beauty swans were known for as he stumbled over his feet, tripped up on Minerva’s robe and stood on her toes more than once. With each one, Atlas winced, knowing the lady was probably finding it quite hard to keep her composure. It wasn’t like she could do any better than Ron, however.

“Everybody, come together!”

That wiped the smile from Atlas’s face. She went slightly wide-eyed as she sunk in her chair, hiding her face in her hair as everybody around her stood, even Hermione and Ginny, the two of them looking down on her quizzically. That confusion quickly turned to realisation as Ginny smirked and Hermione chuckled, the two sharing a momentary glance before moving in sync and hooking their hands beneath her arms, pulling her up to stand.

“Hey! No, wait!” Atlas protested, face flushed. “I can’t dance!”

“The legendary Atlas Black can’t dance?” Ginny teased, pushing her to the middle where everyone was pairing up, the boys more begrudging than the girls. Atlas practically whimpered, sympathising with their pain and embarrassment. “And you told me to brush up on my dancing.”

“Come on, Atty.” Hermione smiled, taking her hand. Atlas flushed impossibly further, Ginny cackling as she paired up with a fumbling Neville Longbottom. The two witches stood stationary for a moment, Atlas’s hands already clammy from the contact while Hermione stared up at her with a quirk to her lips, an eyebrow cocked and a fondness in her eye. “It’s simple.”

“I’m a mess on my feet, Mi. I’m not as perfect as people think,” Atlas whispered, “Seriously, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and placed a hand on Atlas’s waist, the champion straightening at once, a gulp catching at the back of her throat as Hermione smirked. “Then let me lead, idiot.”

“But–” 

The record renewed and soon the hall was a ball of its own, everybody gliding across the floor nervously, a few yelps here or there and a couple chuckles when a pair tripped over themselves but, otherwise, it was going quite well, many finding their feet and dancing freely. Atlas, however, was practically shaking, staring down at her feet while Hermione smiled softly and guided them through the dance quietly. She looked like a newborn Thestral, wobbly on her legs and unsure with each step she took. 

It was a little endearing, charming even, to see someone as solid and secure as Atlas, uncertain in every move she made. Afraid to potentially harm Hermione’s toes on a rogue step, scared she might bump into one of the other pairs and, by the grip she had on Hermione’s hand, anxious to lose her stability. Hermione laughed quietly when Atlas stuck her tongue between her teeth, scrutinising her footwork harshly as she almost tripped over her own leg on a spin.

“You want to try leading?” Hermione grinned and Atlas felt her heart lurch to her throat, a rebuttal rising but not having the opportunity to fully form as her hand was suddenly torn from Hermione’s shoulder and instead curved around her waist. She made a strange noise at the back of her throat, Hermione looking up at her with a curious smile as she tried her bestest to act as the prancing lordly lion. Instead, like Ron, she ended up as something completely different. The runt of the pride perhaps, the lousy lion that couldn’t walk let alone prance.

She tripped, Hermione’s eyes going slightly wide as they fell to the floor in a heap, stopping the dancing around them. The record came to a screeching halt and Minerva hurried over to them, Atlas clutching her stomach and groaning with one arm while she held Hermione protectively with the other. The bookworm was gazing upon her worriedly, however, it was quickly revealed the girl was giggling, holding her stomach as she wheezed and howled with laughter. Minerva sighed out in relief and shook her head, those witnessing the display soon joining her in her hysterical fit of snickers.

“Why did you make me lead!?” Atlas cried out through laughter, rolling around as Hermione stood up and brushed herself down.

“I thought you could handle it!”

“What gave you that idea!? I was shaking like a leaf!” Atlas wheezed, sitting up as well and staring at Hermione with a crooked grin. They just looked at each other, Minerva glancing between the two with a knowing glint to her eye as she turned and whisked her hand for the music to continue.

“Up you get, Miss Black. You must perfect your moves for the Yule Ball.”

All she got in response was a groan of misery.