Chapter 74

Rushing water sounded throughout Myrtle’s old bathroom, the racket of splashing and desperate scrubbing soon following as Atlas looked up, catching the flickering gold of her eyes, slowly growing more and more frantic each time she tried to force them under control. She ducked her face into the water again, holding her head in the basin for much longer this time, trying, hopelessly to cool down the burning of her eyes. 

After a minute, an entirely fruitless minute, she pulled away from the sink, stumbling backwards as she ran a hand through her hair, blowing the water from her mouth her chest heaving from exertion. Her shirt had grown entirely transparent, her topmost buttons undone while her tie lay discarded on the floor, her jumper crumpled on top of it. 

Ever since that day with Pansy Parkinson, since the day she was punished with a weeks detention, her eyes had begun shifting involuntarily, every single time she grew stressed, angry or even tired. She’d managed so far, to hide each outburst but she just knew her luck would run out, it always did and always in situations where she needed it most. Word had spread throughout the school, the rumours Pansy had broadcasted, that she was a monster, some hybrid werewolf. Most shrugged them off as that, rumours but some few took it as truth, banding around Pansy, around Malfoy who had egged those rumours on. And it wasn’t helping.

A pitiful whine wailed from behind her and Atlas looked up, catching Myrtle’s reflection in her sink mirror, the ghostly figure sat in her toilet, arms resting on the rim of the seat, her gaze entirely suspicious, eyebrows narrowed, just waiting for Atlas to speak. And when she did, it was harsh, gravely and wholly unkind.

“What is it? Come to gawk as well?”

“Someone step on your tail, puppy?” Myrtle blubbered, floating out of her toilet to hold stagnant in the air right beside Atlas.

“I don’t…need this right now!” The sink cracked, Atlas’s eyes burning brighter than ever, her hands shifting to paws that destroyed the ceramic in her grasp. She flinched away, digging her paws into her pockets, clenching her eyes closed and screwing up her face in concentration as she slowly slid down one of the cubicle doors.

“You don’t…look so good,” Myrtle murmured, sounding so concerned Atlas wondered if some other ghost had accidentally wandered in because that couldn’t have been Myrtle. Moaning and wailing Myrtle. The Myrtle Atlas knew laughed at others misfortune, she hated the world and the cards it dealt her, she did not sympathise, she mocked. This was entirely different. “Do you need me to get someone — ?”

“No!” Atlas burst and Myrtle floated down to sit at her side. “No, I’m alright…I just need a moment. Training was…I just — I fucked up — I fucked up so bad…” she cried, staring into her lap, her eyes still burning as she thought of what had just happened. For the past few days, she’d spent all the time she wasn’t hiding her eyes, training, reading books in the library and running along the Black Lake like she used to before coming to Hogwarts, all to ready her body for the final trial.

They’d been sneaking into empty classrooms, her, Harry, Ron and Hermione, practising charms and hexes she’d known since before coming here, ones Minerva had taught her years ago. However, she still went along, there was no harm in practising. It made perfect after all and if Atlas wanted any sleep, she must be perfect. The only trouble was that practising it involved certain sacrifices on Ron’s and Hermione’s part.

In fact, the whole reason she was in the predicament she was, was because she’d accidentally hurt Hermione with a too-powerful Stunner Charm. And by Merlin it had messed her up, seeing the person she wanted so badly to protect down and sprawled out across the floor because of her wand, sent her spiralling. Which is why she had run away, eyes brimming with tears and burning all at once, the numbness returning but this time, throughout her entire body leaving her unable to properly move. That is why she’d ended up in Myrtle’s bathroom, instead of one of the more private and lockable ones.

“What happened?”

“Why do you care!?”

“I — I don’t…get out of my bathroom!” Myrtle refuted, floating upward and diving back into one of her toilets. Atlas sniffled, wiping her eyes as she grabbed her tie and jumper from the floor, pulling the latter on while she stared down at the former in her hand. She still couldn’t do her own bloody tie. “Are you gone yet!?”

“I’m going!” Atlas snapped, burying it in her pocket and casting herself one last look in the mirror, seeing that her eyes had returned to their normal brown, though with a golden sheen over them, every time the light struck them. She snatched her gaze away, hurrying over to the door, her head down and fist still clenched around her tie in her pocket.

“Wait!” She stopped, glancing over at Myrtle who had popped her head out of the toilet again. “I…I hope you feel better…I heard some girls talking about you and — and I’m sorry. It’s not nice, is it?”

“What’s it to you? You thrive on people being miserable,” Atlas bit and Myrtle shrunk into her toilet.

“I do…but it’s different if it’s you…you actually liked me, didn’t you?” Atlas went a little wide-eyed. “When you were little.”

“I…yeah, Myrtle…I liked you.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so horrible to you lately.”

“It’s fine, you wouldn’t be the first,” Atlas muttered and then cast a wave over her shoulder, barging through the bathroom door and out into the empty hallway, soon to be filled with bustling students walking to their next classes. 

She looked around, peering through the wet strands of hair that had fallen over her eyes before starting off down the opposite way she’d come, further and further away from the classroom she knew, Harry, Ron and…Hermione would be training in. If the girl had even woken from her stunned state. Merlin, Atlas hoped she was ok, she was, of course, tempted to check herself but she just couldn’t bring herself to, scared she may lose control again. Perhaps in a manner even worse than her previous outbursts.

The bell rang somewhere in the distance and the halls started to grow cramped, a few bustling first years ran by, eager to get to their classes with backpacks twice the size of them knocking over those that got in their way. Atlas was, unfortunately, walking down the middle of the hall, making her an easy enough target to accidentally hit, the problem was, she was the one knocking them down, not moving an inch when they smacked into her.

One unlucky soul had fallen to the floor, cheeks flushed pink from embarrassment as Atlas look down at them, straight-faced and wholly intimidating. She crouched down to help the kid collect their stuff but as soon as the books were back and in their bag, she was gone, not a word spoken between them. Leaving the gaping first year to give their thanks to the air.

Her next lesson was Divination, far up in the North Tower and it was one she hated, or rather, held no regard for. Not since her exam the year prior. She found Trelawney to be too invasive, brash and biased. After all, every one of her predictions had something to do with death, when she spoke it was of mortal injury and even in passing she couldn’t help but predict a persons’ demise. Of course, she often prophesied quite a bit of love to come in Atlas’s life but it was soon followed by some omen of death. So excuse Atlas if she didn’t want to sit through an hour of total dreariness.

Atlas stopped at the foot of the silver ladder, leading up to the trapdoor that opened to a larger space beyond, she sighed and began her climb, thinking of how impractical the whole thing was to occupy her mind and well, the more she thought about it, the more it skeeved her out. A majority of the girls wore skirts at Hogwarts, did they not find it off-putting? Having to climb up a ladder while a group of boys and girls waited below, watching them? Suddenly Atlas was glad she wore trousers but wasn’t so glad she never tucked in her shirt. Anyone could have been looking up there.

As soon as she arrived in the classroom she tidied herself up a bit, digging her shirt into her trousers and running a hand through her hair as she found her table, what she hadn’t expected was for Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown to sit next to her, taking Ron and Harry’s seats. She looked over at them, blinking slowly as she opened her mouth to speak, only no words came out and she instead looked rather stupid. And when Ron and Harry came in, looking around the room urgently, they found their spots were taken and Atlas was avoiding their gaze.

They continued over to them, however, stubbornly pulling two chairs over to join them. “Atlas,” Harry called firmly when he sat and his god-sister turned to him, though she kept her gaze to her hands. “What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t mean to, my magic, it just sort of –“

“No, I meant — Jesus Christ, why did you run away? Hermione ran out after you when she woke up. Didn’t she find you?” Harry asked, brows drawn. Atlas’s whole demeanour dropped further, her face going pale. “Atlas?”

“She was looking for me?”

“Of course she was,” Ron huffed, pointing his quill at her. “You’re her person, remember?”

“But…I –“

“Atlas, we know what we signed up for when we volunteered to help you and Harry for the third task,” Ron sighed but Atlas shook her head.

“But I went too far, I hurt Hermione.”

“Hermione knows how your magic is, Atlas,” Harry pressed, “and come on, she knows you didn’t mean to hurt her. Sure she was a bit dazed when she woke up but her first thought was finding you, doesn’t that…tell you something?”

“No, I…I don’t know. I should look for her…at dinner?”

“Yeah but…I don’t think that’s what Harry was getting at,” Ron grinned.

“Oh Merlin,” Parvati sighed, turning to them as Lavender laughed. “Harry’s trying to say Hermione likes you.”

“I know,” Atlas muttered, looking all kinds of troubled as Lavender cackled louder, Harry and Ron, shaking their heads in tandem. “What?”

“She’s hopeless…how thick can one person be? She’s got to be doing this on purpose,” Parvati wailed, looking at Harry and Ron with her mouth agape.

“Nope, she’s really like this.”

“Really?” Lavender beamed, Harry nodded while Atlas drew a blank, staring between her friends in confusion.

“I’m confused.”

“Aren’t you always?” Ron grinned, chuckling slightly. 

“I meant romantically, you brick wall!” Parvati practically shouted.

“Oh…yeah, no,” Atlas shook her head, “I’m not doing this right now.”

“But — ! The signs are right there!” Parvati huffed, turning back to Lavender who was clutching her stomach, still giggling like some prissy schoolgirl. “How do you boys put up with this…obliviousness?”

“We try and think of the outcome rather than the journey,” Harry sighed and the four of them looked over at Atlas, the girl sat, rearranging the cushion of her chair and taking off her jumper. The room was incredibly stuffy after all and Trelawney’s fireplace was practically a portal to the pits of hell with how hot it was. A very flowery hell, though, one that smelled like a variety of overwhelming perfumes.

“Good evening, my dears!” Trelawney began, sitting down in her winged armchair in front of the class and peering around at them through her jam-jar spectacles. “We have almost finished our work on planetary divination. Today, however, will be an excellent opportunity to examine the effects of Mars, for he is placed most interestingly at the present time. If you will all look this way, I will dim the lights…”

The lights diminished, the fire was the only source of light now, illuminating only a small portion of the room. Trelawney pulled her model of the solar system, encased in a transparent dome with star-like accents dotted across its surface, it was really pretty in fact and Atlas found that maybe spending an hour in that stuffy classroom would be alright. She need only block out Trelawney’s droning and depressing prophecies, then she could watch the miniature solar system, its many moons and planets, in peace. 

A thud fell against her shoulder and she glanced down to see Harry fast asleep, leaning over the arm of his chair, mumbling with his mouth wide open and glasses messily askew. She adjusted and hooked an arm over his shoulder, turning back to gaze at the solar system, Trelawney frantically prophesying things over its shiny dome. Suddenly she was pointing over at Atlas, eyes bulging as she wiggled her fingers, enticing her closer.

“You there, Atlas. Tell me again, what does Mars symbolise?”

“Er — passion, anger, war, assertion, and separation,” Atlas rushed as Trelawney nodded, rolling her wrist around, beckoning for her to say more, to see more, to take a closer look at the planetary dome. Atlas leaned forward, moving so she would not awaken Harry as she strode over to the centre of the room, peering upon the miniature Mars in front of her.

“And, what do you see? Passion? Anger? Separation? What are the signs pointing to for your future?”

“It’s passionate, I believe…there’s a pink tint to it.”

“Yes, well that would make sense dear. If it’s you, there is sure to be passion in your future. We have long since established this,” Trelawney nodded as Atlas frowned, ducking her head when a few giggles erupted throughout the class. “And what else do you see?”

“It’s bright, really bright. Which means it’s — well it’s pointing to war,” Atlas muttered, “the beginning of a war.”

“Most unfortunate, most unfortunate…” Trelawney muttered gravely, taking Atlas’s hand and tapping her knuckles in some odd form of comfort. “Yes, I too see war…a devastating green light, bloodshed and the Grim Reapers approach.”

A clatter sounded from somewhere else in the classroom, the sound of Lavender shrieking and Parvati crying out in surprise giving away just where it had come from. Atlas snapped her gaze over to where Ron was, knelt in front of a writhing Harry, the boy sweating and mumbling about something, only for it to turn into cries of pain. She hurried over to the boy, dropping to her knees by his head and pulling him into her lap, eyes wide.

“Harry!” She called. He was burning up, tears seeping through the closed lids of his eyes. “Harry! Wake up! Harry!”

Suddenly, he was upright, chest heaving as he cried, letting out little whimpers of pain that concerned Atlas greatly, she moved over to him, a hand on his back and her other arm around his shoulder when he collapsed into her. Breathing erratic, face pale as a sheet and eyes swimming with tears.

“Harry…”

“You all right?” Ron asked, looking terrified.

“Of course he isn’t!” Trelawney cried, looking thoroughly excited as she hurried over. “What was it, Potter? A premonition? An apparition? What did you see?”

“Nothing,” Harry lied, Atlas could tell as he stared off somewhere, someplace far away.

“You were clutching your scar!” Trelawney claimed and though Atlas hadn’t noticed it before, she realised that he had been, it was apparently the thing causing him so much pain. “You were rolling on the floor, clutching your scar! Come now. Potter, I have experience in these matters!”

Harry looked up at her.

“I need to go to the hospital wing, I think,” he said and Atlas nodded, agreeing as she helped him stand. “Bad headache.”

“My dear, you were undoubtedly stimulated by the extraordinary clairvoyant vibrations of my room!” Trelawney pushed. “If you leave now, you may lose the opportunity to see further than you have ever –“

“Not now, Professor!” Atlas argued, guiding her god-brother over to the trapdoor after he’d muttered a goodbye to Ron. She glared at those that seemed to back away, they all looked unnerved and though she couldn’t fault them for displaying such a reaction, she couldn’t help but think of all the whispers that were bound to sprout from this and showed her own resentment through her scowl.

When they had gotten to the bottom of the stepladder, however, Harry didn’t seem to show any intention of going to the hospital like he said he would, instead, he took off in the direction of Dumbledore’s office. Atlas blinked back her shock, hurrying after him without much protest, though she still wore a frown on her face as, yeah, ok, she supposed it was a better idea to see Dumbledore, but it didn’t mean she had to be happy about it. At moments she tried to make conversation but Harry looked too wrapped up in his own mind to really respond so she didn’t pursue it.

They came to the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore’s office but Harry walked straight past it without noticing, Atlas had to jog after him, grabbing him by the back of his shirt to pull him back over to where he wanted to go. Well, where she’d figured he’d wanted to go. It seemed she’d been right, however, as the boy soon started listing off past passwords.

Atlas rolled her eyes, “Cockroach Cluster.”

The gargoyle sprang to life and jumped aside.

“How did you…?”

“Minerva tells me every time it’s changed,” Atlas said as they slowly ascended, the rotating stairs rising higher and higher, stopping them right outside the polished dark oak door, Atlas’s nose practically brushing against the surface. She pressed her hand to the wood, intent on opening it but caught the conversation inside, raising her finger to her lips when Harry went to announce their presence.

“Dumbledore, I’m afraid I don’t see the connection, don’t see it at all!” It was the voice of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. A man Atlas loathed with every fibre of her being. “Ludo says Bertha’s perfectly capable of getting herself lost. I agree we would have expected to have found her by now, but all the same, we’ve no evidence of foul play, Dumbledore, none at all. As for her disappearance being linked with Barty Crouch’s!”

“And what do you think’s happened to Barty Crouch, Minister?” Another voice. It was Moody and his mere voice sent a sharp shiver down Atlas’s spine.

“I see two possibilities, Alastor,” Fudge began again and Atlas rolled her eyes, glancing over to Harry with a look of disbelief. “Either Crouch has finally cracked – more than likely, I’m sure you’ll agree, given his personal history – lost his mind, and gone wandering off somewhere –“

“He wandered extremely quickly, if that is the case, Cornelius. And as you know, I have already informed you that young Atlas Magianima caught a glimpse of somebody dragging Crouch further into the woods,” Dumbledore said calmly.

“Or else – well…” Fudge sounded embarrassed. “Well, I’ll reserve judgment until after I’ve seen the place where he was found, but you say it was just past the Beauxbatons carriage? Dumbledore, you know what that woman is?”

“I consider her to be a very able headmistress – and an excellent dancer,” Dumbledore said.

“Dumbledore, come!” Fudge shouted angrily. “Don’t you think you might be prejudiced in her favour because of Hagrid? They don’t all turn out harmless – if, indeed, you can call Hagrid harmless, with that monster fixation he’s got –“

“Merlin’s beard…” Atlas grumbled and pushed into the office, Harry going wide-eyed as she strolled inside, hands in her pockets. The three inside turned to look at her, all with varying reactions on their faces. Moody looked unperturbed, he had obviously seen them through the door, Dumbledore was mildly amused, his eyes twinkling and Fudge, well, Fudge looked livid, his face an ugly purple colour.

“Don’t you know you’re supposed to knock before you enter, girl?” He seethed.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to be so prejudiced…boy?” Atlas retorted, tilting her head to the side.

“How dare you, I ought to have you — !”

“I wouldn’t threaten me, Minister, I’ve had a really shit day and I’m afraid any moment now I might just…snap,” Atlas scowled, her sharpened canines glinting in the firelight. The Minister seemed to sweat at this, readjusting his stupid bowler hat as he cleared his throat, turning to look at Dumbledore and Moody.

“Gentlemen…we were just about to go on a short walk around the grounds, were we not?”  Fudge declared, shuffling past Atlas and Harry to amble down the steps beyond, Moody limped after him, his clawed foot clanking along as he shot Atlas a grin, clapping her shoulder as he went passed. Dumbledore soon followed, stopping just in front of Atlas.

“Though you are under my protection and he cannot harm you…I should advise you to not antagonise Cornelius — well, not too much at least,” he warned, that small smile on his face that communicated something more. Atlas huffed, looking straight ahead as she nodded in a way that was wholly noncommittal. “Well, I shall –“

“I wanted to talk to you. Professor,” Harry said quickly, looking at Dumbledore, who tore his gaze away from Atlas and gave him a swift, searching look.

“Wait for me here,” he said. “Our examination of the grounds will not take long.”

And then he was gone, the door closing behind him, leaving Atlas and Harry alone just listening to their fading footsteps. After a minute or so, they were left in complete silence, save for the bubbling of a potion in the corner and the sounds of chittering, Fawkes – Dumbledore’s Pheonix – was making over on his golden perch. Atlas decided to take a seat in front of the Headmaster’s desk, an arm raised to receive Fawkes as the magnificent beast pushed himself from his perch and gently landed on her call.

“Hello, pretty boy…I haven’t seen you for quite some time. You look younger, I suppose I missed your rebirth,” Atlas mused, brushing her finger down the Pheonix’s chest, earning a faint noise from him, almost sounding the same as Crookshanks when he purred. She smiled and sunk further into her chair, looking around the room and at the animated pictures of all the old headmasters, snoring away in their frames. She wondered how they all remembered their lives before turning into paintings, thinking back to how the Lady didn’t even recall her name. Was it something to do with how they were made?

A dull thud sounded from over by one of Dumbledore’s many cabinets a good few minutes later and Atlas startled, sitting up straight to turn around to find Harry missing and Dumbledore’s Pensieve on full display. There was a book on the floor beside it, the apparent origin of the thudding sound she had heard, without it, she wouldn’t have even noticed Harry was gone. How long had he been in there anyway? She groaned and stood, jogging over to the basin, a grimace on her face – Merlin she hated the Pensieve – as she all but dived in after him.