Chapter 86

Muffled shouts and orders echoed up and into Atlas’s room, a few particles of dust falling from the ceiling when several loud bangs sounded from the stairs, Molly was yelling at the top of her lungs, warning everybody that they’d be late for the train and scolding Fred and George for their reckless antics. Yet Atlas remained sat on her bed, she was dressed and ready, trainers on with her trunk beside her but she remained to stare into her hands and upon a picture frame she held within them. A photo from Bella, arrived just that morning.

It was of her, Atlas and Cedric, the day they had spent their first Christmas together in Hogsmeade. Atlas remembered it clearly as she blankly stared at the picture. She remembered how they had forced Bella in the middle, her and Cedric, gathering up clumps of snow and then, just as the light flashed they had dumped it all on her head, laughing as she fell to the floor, trying to get the snow from within her shirt.

The glass of the frame cracked under Atlas’s thumb, a dribble of blood wriggling from the small cut of her finger. She pulled it away, staring at the red a moment before turning the frame over in her hand and taking the photo out, folding it and tucking it in her pocket. She turned to the letter Bella had sent with it, reaching out to bury it in her trunk. It was a simple note but it spoke enough.

‘This is how you should remember him.’

Atlas sighed, standing to grab her wand so she could tuck it in her thigh holster, something Moody had insisted she wore at all times. The noise below had only tripled, shouting that did not belong to Molly echoing throughout the house. It was her dear old grandmother, screeching obscene words, calling anyone who passed a vile name. At this, Atlas’s mood soured even further and she grabbed her trunk viciously, the sounds of wings flapping hurriedly after her, the only incentive that she should slow down. Kalo stopped on her shoulder, Little Robin forcing his way into her breast pocket while the Agoniser curled into its stationary state in the inside pocket of her jacket.

She swung open her door, surprised to find a face on the other side, staring directing at Little Robin. Hermione staggard backwards, looking frazzled and a lot more untamable than usual. Atlas smiled slightly, pulling out her wand to send her trunk down the stairs to the pile below, much to Hermione’s dismay.

“You’re not allowed to — !”

“Unregistered wands aren’t tracked by the Ministry, Mi.”

“Yes but that’s illegal…”

“This whole operation is probably illegal,” Atlas said, gesturing to their surroundings, “What’s up? You were standing outside my door.”

“I was just…wondering where you were. Harry asked me to come and see you, he thinks he upset you yesterday…something about a Boggart,” Hermione muttered and Atlas’s breathing hitched, the image of Hermione, dead on the floor flashing back to her. She closed her eyes, taking a breath through her nose so that the smell of peaches grounded her soul.

“He didn’t upset me…” Atlas murmured. “I just got worked up over nothing.”

“Atlas, your Boggart isn’t nothing, Achlys is a monster, she –“

“My Boggart has changed,” Atlas interrupted, “It’s not Achlys anymore.”

“…what is it now?”

“…a failed test,” Atlas smiled and Hermione flushed, rolling her eyes. “Come on, before we miss the train.”

“You can’t just switch up topics like that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Atlas replied and set off down the stairs, Kalo jumping from her shoulder and over to Hermione instead, crooning against her cheek in greeting. Hermione was distracted by this and didn’t get to respond, leaving Atlas to descend the rest of the way in thankful silence. She reached over the bannister when she got to the bottom to ruffle Ginny’s hair and flicked her wand so that a bacon and egg sandwich flew towards her from the kitchen.

Howls of rage and fury continued to echo throughout the house on top of Molly’s frantic ordering, berating anyone that dared to go past Lady Black’s portrait. Atlas watched her grandmother from across the room, leaning up against the wall and idly chewing on her breakfast. It was amusing, watching the old hag getting so worked up, the sweat that lined her brow and the redness of her face evidence that their mere presence was an insult to her. It made Atlas smile.

But it also made her grimace. The noise was getting louder and louder, the other paintings slowly joining in and Atlas’s smile faded, she pushed herself from the wall, eating the last of her sandwich as she approached her grandmothers painting, reaching down to grab the woman’s fallen curtain from the floor as she walked by. The lady spotted her, her eyes bulging as she started spewing more and more of her profanities, backing further into her painting.

“Abomination!” Lady Black cried, pointing at her with a shaky finger, Atlas grinned, her eyes flaring their unnatural gold as her canines glinted in the pale light that framed her photo. “Abomination! No blood of mine! Mutt!”

“Shut it you old hag,” Atlas snapped, throwing the curtain over the woman’s portrait, the fabric muffling the noise behind it. And just like that, the others stopped, leaving only Molly’s voice rising to Atlas’s ear. 

Until —

“Atlas!” A clunky hand clamped around her shoulder and Atlas turned, looking upon Moody, the man’s fake eye examining her slowly. It was only at Moody’s voice that the chatter stopped and now everyone, cramped in that small hallway, was staring at them. “Mundungus hasn’t shown, you’ll be on guard duty,” Atlas flinched at the term, mind flickering back to the graveyard, the sacrifice she had made in partnership with Achlys – her hand suddenly itched for her wand. “Hold up the rear with Tonks, you hear? And don’t drop your guard, eh?”

“…yes, Moody,” Atlas muttered.

“This is ridiculous, she’s just a girl and you’re assigning her guard duty? She’s not a part of the Order!” Molly yelled, throwing her hands up in the air and glancing at Atlas worriedly. She wasn’t the only one, Sirius – waiting by the door as his Animagus – had suddenly stood, seemingly alarmed by the declaration, the rest of the Weasley’s looked just as shocked and Harry appeared guilty, it was him Atlas would be guarding after all. Hermione looked to be the only one not alarmed by this, instead, she looked suddenly quite angry.

“She’s just as capable if not more capable as any of the Order. She may not be officially inducted but she will and it will be soon,” Moody growled. “Her mother –“

“She’s not Amaya, Alastor!” Molly hissed and reached forward, pulling Atlas from Moody’s grasp. The man frowned, his face contorting in a way that was entirely discomforting but ultimately admitting of defeat. He seemed to grumble something under his breath, glancing at Atlas in a way that seemed almost guilty, sad as he then went back to checking the trunks. “Deary me…that man. Atlas, why don’t you come with me and Tonks, no guard duty?”

“Uh, ok, Mrs — Molly,” Atlas nodded, smiling slightly, the woman nodded with a bright smile and lightly tapped her cheek a few times, pulling open the door and stepping outside into the soft September light. Harry followed and Atlas glanced backwards at him, offering him a small smile that he reciprocated, then her eyes drifted past him and locked on Hermione, finding the girl talking animatedly with Ginny – Kalo still on her shoulder – looking furious. Atlas would have to ask her about it later.

Sirius came bounding out after her, rubbing against her leg and barking loudly so Atlas patted his head, smiling at the dog as he pranced around the neighbourhood. He probably hadn’t been out in quite some time, so it made Atlas happy to see him so free. They found Tonks at the end of the road, disguised as an old lady with tightly curled grey hair and a patchwork dress, she winked at Atlas, turning to Molly and talking to her in a hushed voice that Atlas didn’t bother trying to hear.

A light tap pressed upon her shoulder and she turned, looking at Harry curiously. “Yeah?”

“I — er — I’m sorry about yesterday, Atlas…and about Moody trying to make you guard…me,” he murmured, his head bowed guiltily. Atlas regarded him a moment before smiling and reaching over to him, scuffing up his hair good-naturedly.

“I get it, you know…wanting to fight, it’s frustrating being left in the dark but if I were you, I’d revel in it…I mean, as you can see I’m already getting dragged into Order business…I’m sort of jealous of you three, getting to keep your noses out…so just, take advantage of it while you can,” Atlas muttered, her voice growing quieter and quieter the closer she got to the end of her sentence. She frowned, looking tired as Harry glanced her over, biting his lip anxiously.

They made it to King’s Cross without incident, their twenty-minute walk entirely uneventful save for the few cats Atlas had seen and petted on the way, much to Sirius’s dismay, he clearly wanted to chase them for a laugh but knew Atlas would have scolded him senseless. Once they’d gotten inside the station, Tonks had directed them to the barrier between nine and ten, signalling when they could slip through and onto the platform of the wizarding world beyond. 

The old lady nodded once and Atlas fell through, catching herself on the other side and looking over the heads of familiar faces and their families, all talking vividly with one another. She waited silently, leaning up against a pillar with her arms crossed and head hung low, idly stroking up and down the length of her burnt arm with her frozen digit, it soothed the ever-warm skin and restored some feeling into her ringed finger.

Finally, Ron and Hermione emerged onto the platform with Mr Weasley, Moody just behind with the trunks and Remus soon following, Fred, George and Ginny on his tail. She pushed away from her pillar at that, walking over to grab her trunk and cage. She pulled Little Robin from her pocket and sat him inside, Kalo flying from Hermione’s shoulder to join him.

The adults were all talking hurriedly, muttering about guard duties and if they had been followed but Atlas tried not to pay them any mind, instead, she bent down in front of her dad, grabbing his furry face in her hands and hugging him quickly. 

“Bye dad…” she whispered, earning a bark in return.

“Atlas,” a voice called, she glanced upwards, smiling at Remus and standing as well to pull him into a hug. “You be careful this year…I suspect some changes will be coming to Hogwarts and remember, look after yourself. I know what Dumbledore has declared and though I trust his judgement…it does not mean I condone it. Luckily, however, I hear you won’t be invited to any meetings.”

“Really? So…I won’t actually be part of the Order?”

“Well –” Remus seemed to contemplate on something, furrowing his brows, “– Atlas, I don’t entirely know…I feel, however, that Dumbledore will tell you what he needs you to do when he sees you.”

“Right…” Atlas sighed as Remus looked at her apologetically. “Thanks, Uncle Remus.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help, Little Star.”

“It’s fine, I’ll see you…” Atlas smiled and Remus nodded.

“Well, look after yourself, be careful.”

“Yeah, keep your head down and your eyes peeled,” Moody added, clunking over to her as well, he offered a hand and Atlas took it, shaking slowly, “remember all that I’ve taught you, Atlas…and I’m sorry if I have ever been…harsh. I — er…”

He seemed to struggle with his words so Atlas smiled, pulling him into a quick one-armed hug.

“It’s fine, Moody, I understand.”

“Good, glad you understand,” Moody nodded quickly and hobbled away, back to the back of the group.

“It’s been great meeting all of you,” Tonks smiled, hugging Hermione and Ginny first and then running up to Atlas, throwing her arms around her. “See you soon, Atlas. And…well, for the record Hermione wouldn’t stop talking about you throughout the Summer.”

“Right,” Atlas laughed, pulling away from the old lady. She only now realised how strange an old lady running and throwing her arms around her would have looked to unknowing outside viewers and that made her smile a little wider. “I’ll see you, Tonks.”

A warning whistle sounded; the students still on the platform started hurrying onto the train.

“Quick, quick,” Molly ushered distractedly, hugging them at random and catching Atlas twice, “Write…Be good…If you’ve forgotten anything we’ll send it…Onto the train, now, hurry…” Atlas waved goodbye and hopped onto the train, heaving her trunk with her easily while Kalo stabilized a flailing Little Robin in their shared cage. It started to move as soon as Harry stepped on and Atlas threw another quick wave out of the window. Every figure of the Order shrunk quickly in the distance but one, the great black dog Atlas called her father.

She huffed disbelievingly and leaned out of the window, watching as he chased after the train; blurred people on the platform were craning to see him but then they rounded a bend, and Sirius was gone, with it, Atlas’s smile. She moved away from the window, adjusting her trunk and cage in her grasp and turned to the little group still standing by the train door.

“Well,” Fred beamed, clapping his hand on Atlas’s shoulder and shooting her a cheeky wink, “can’t stand around chatting all day, we’ve got business to discuss with Lee. See you later,” and he and George disappeared down the corridor to the right, leaving the five of them to sway with the train.

“Shall we go and find a compartment, then?” Harry asked and Atlas nodded, moving to leave but neither Ron nor Hermione moved, the two of them fidgeting awkwardly. And that’s when Atlas remembered, they were prefects. She turned, looking at them silently, Hermione staring right back.

“They have prefect duty, Harry,” Atlas said and looked away, “they’re supposed to go to the prefect carriage.”

“How’d you know that?” Ron asked and Hermione seemed to jerk slightly, Ron wincing at a sudden pain. “What was that for — ?”

“Cedric is — was a prefect,” Atlas muttered, “Come on, Harry, Ginny, let’s just find a compartment.”

“Oh,” Harry said quietly and nodded, “Right. Fine.”

“I don’t think we’ll have to stay there all journey,” Hermione said quickly. “Our letters said we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time.”

“Fine, yeah,” Harry said again, “Well, we — we might see you later, then.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Ron said, casting a shifty, anxious look at Harry. “It’s a pain having to go down there, I’d rather — but we have to — I mean, I’m not enjoying it, I’m not Percy,” he finished defiantly.

“I know you’re not,” Harry said and he grinned, even Atlas cracked a smile at that, casting a smile over her shoulder and a small wave as they moved to find a spare few seats, trunks dragging behind them.

“Atlas!” Hermione suddenly called and Atlas turned, quirking a brow as Harry and Ginny continued down the train, Ron just the same on Hermione’s side, she quickly walked forward and hugged her briefly. “We’ll come and find you soon, alright?”

“Yeah, Hermione, I know.”

“You just — you seem upset.” 

“I’m alright,” Atlas nodded and when Hermione gave her a doubtful look she continued. “I’m fine, Mi. Honest.”

“…if you’re sure,” Hermione murmured, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Atlas nodded and pulled her forward, kissing the top of her head.

“I’m sure…see you later,” Atlas smiled and turned, jogging down the narrow passageway to where she had seen Ginny and Harry take their seats.

It was in the very last carriage she found them, sat in a lone compartment, Luna and Neville inside as well, Atlas smiled and slipped within, heaving her trunk overhead and doing the same with Kalo and Little Robin. She slumped into her seat beside Luna after, stretching out her legs so they rested next to Neville, the boy sending her a small wave.

“Hello doggy,” Luna smiled airily and Harry seemed to snort, hiding his face behind his hand.

“Luna,” Atlas nodded, leaning over to punch her godbrother in the arm. “Had a good summer?”

“Yes, it was quite enjoyable. You know, you didn’t write to me,” Luna said and Atlas looked at her, mouth open, unable to reply for a moment.

“I didn’t write to anyone…I — er — wasn’t allowed,” Atlas told.

“I see…that’s unfortunate,” she muttered and Atlas nodded stiffly, looking into her hands quietly. A sudden cough shattered the silence and everyone turned to Ginny, the girl smiling with her hands in her lap as she looked at Neville, motioning to the small grey plant he held in his hands. It was a Mimbulus Mimbletonia, Atlas had seen one in Professor Sprout’s office once.

“So…what’s that Neville?”

“Oh! My Great Uncle Algie got it for me for my birthday, it’s a Mimbulus Mimbletonia!” He grinned, pulling out a sharp inkless quill from his bag, “it’s really cool, it does loads of stuff. For example, it’s got this amazing defensive mechanism. Here, Harry, hold Trevor for me!”

Harry didn’t get a chance to respond as a large toad was suddenly dropped into his hands, writhing about in his grasp. Atlas watched with a small smile and shook her head, turning to watch as Neville slowly examined his plant, his quill between his fingers. She furrowed her brows, confused as to what he was doing but soon realised his goal only when he gave his plant a sharp prod into its backside.

Immediately, she had whisked her wand so that a large shield covered both her and Luna, a wide-eyed and startled look on her face when the dark green jets of pus, all flying from the boils across the plant, splattered against her shield and slowly slid to the carriage floor. The guard shattered and dissolved into particles of shimmering dust, leaving the compartment in complete silence. Atlas looked up, finding Harry covered in the slime, Ginny’s hair just the same, but none were as bathed as Neville, the boy had gotten the full brunt of it.

“So sorry!” Neville gasped, “I haven’t tried that before…Didn’t realise it would be quite so…Don’t worry, though, Stinksap’s not poisonous,” he added looking at Harry who had spat a mouthful to the floor. Atlas frowned and leaned forwards, wiping at his face and cleaning his glasses. 

The door to their compartment slid open a moment later and Atlas turned, straightening and tensing slightly when she saw who was at the door. Cho Chang. They stared at each other, the Ravenclaws eyes growing steadily wider as her mouth slowly opened, gaze flickering to Harry, Ginny, Neville and Luna and then back to Atlas, her throat bobbing as she swallowed some unsaid words. Atlas dropped the handkerchief she had been using in Harry’s lap and turned, walking out of the compartment and sliding the door shut behind her, all the while Cho stumbled backwards, eyes averted as she gently thudded against the carriage wall.

“Cho –“

“I – I’m sorry for barging in, I saw Luna and was going to ask about –“

“How have you been?” Atlas asked, leaning her back against the sliding door, feeling four pairs of eyes on her back as she tucked her hands in her pockets. Cho glanced up at her, frowning as she chewed on her bottom lip, hands wrung together tightly and gaze dropping quickly to her feet. “How have you been, Cho?”

“How have you been?”

Atlas sighed through her nose, closing her eyes as she tilted her head to the side. “Cho.”

“What do you want me to say, Atlas?” Cho relented, talking quietly as she rubbed her arm up and down, Atlas opened her eyes again and stared upon the girl gently, “it was…I don’t know — a blur? I don’t remember anything apart from the funeral…”

“How…how was it?” Atlas frowned, straightening and pulling her hands from her pockets, clenching them at her sides. “The funeral, I mean…”

“Heavy,” Cho muttered, “I’m…I’m sorry Atlas…about Mr Diggory. He was just mourning –“

“That’s no excuse.”

“I know…” Cho smiled sadly and reached forward, squeezing Atlas’s arm. “If it…makes you feel better, Mrs Diggory was really angry with him, said you had a right to be there.”

“She’s always liked me a lot more than Amos,” Atlas nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “Look…Cho, I’m sorry –“

“Why are you sorry?”

“I just…” Atlas closed her mouth, looking down upon herself and her ringed finger, her eyes slowly clenching shut, tight, so that patterns donned the underside of her eyelids. She took in a slow breath and opened them again, looking at Cho, that guilty and shattered look on her face. Immediately, Cho understood.

“Atlas, it wasn’t your fault.”

“…I know,” Atlas swallowed.

“Do you? Because to me — to me, you look like your drowning in guilt.”

Atlas remained silent and then uncrossed her arms, “So, what did you want Luna for? I could relay the message.”

“You’re the one that pulled me aside to talk and now you’re dodging the conversation?” Cho muttered, furrowing her brows.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“You only don’t want to talk about it because I turned the questions on you…” Cho said evenly and Atlas grimaced, “you can’t keep running from it. You have to deal, Atlas. I did and –“

“I’ve dealt with it.”

“Clearly.”

“I’m not drowning, Cho.” And she wasn’t, that much was true, instead, she was holding her breath but…even she couldn’t deny she would soon run short and those waters of mourning and grief she had held back and been refused the release of would flood her lungs. It was inevitable but Atlas would do her damndest to slow her fixed fate.

“Ok…” Cho whispered, nodding as her gaze dropped to Atlas’s clenched fist, the onyx ring upon her finger, “Ok, Atlas…I’ll see you around. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Yeah…see you,” Atlas nodded, letting out a subtle breath as she then turned and slipped back inside the compartment. She collapsed into her seat back beside Luna, her eyes closed as she dropped her face into her hands. 

“What was that about?” Ginny asked.

“Nothing…” Atlas muttered and shuffled, laying lengthways so that her head rested by Luna’s thigh. She stared up at the ceiling, eyes contemplative as a multitude of thoughts swam behind them, most of them bargaining with something in the darkest corner of her mind, something she did not want to acknowledge. Cho’s face, her words, echoed throughout her skull, etching themselves into the bone of her cranium, the pink of her brain. She shook her head, she didn’t want to think about her, or their talk. “I’m taking a nap…let me know when the trolley gets here.”

It took almost an hour for the trolley to find them. Ginny ended up slapping Atlas with Luna’s Quibbler to wake her because of how deeply she slept and they relayed their orders to Miss Mason without issue. They sat surrounded by various sweets, Atlas gnawing on a twitching chocolate frog as she read the Quibbler over Luna’s shoulder, entirely interested in the one column where her dad was apparently some singing sensation instead of the notorious mass murderer everyone else thought he was.

Nobody really believed The Quibbler was anything but rubbish, even Hermione had made the odd comment about it in passing but Atlas enjoyed it. Luna’s dad, Xenophilius Lovegood, was the editor and Atlas recognised he was a nice enough man, she’d never met him of course but Luna spoke especially high of him and Atlas knew the newspaper never ridiculed or mocked anyone like the Daily Prophet did. The only ones that had fallen prey and victim to the Quibbler were the Minister and various employees directly under him, that was perhaps why it was Atlas’s favourite news outlet.

The compartment door slid open and two irritable figures ambled inside, Hermione disgruntled and Ron looking exhausted as he stowed Pigwidgeon between Hedwig and Kalo, collapsing beside Harry seconds later to snatch up one of his chocolate frogs. He muttered something about his hunger and Atlas stared at him oddly, looking up at Hermione with a smile and patting the spot beside her.

“There are two fifth-year prefects from each house,” Hermione sighed out, slumping into her seat appreciatively with a low and soft grunt of relief. “Boy and girl from each — thank you…” she continued and smiled at the peach flavoured clusters Atlas had bought for her.

“And guess who’s a Slytherin prefect?” Ron grumbled, his eyes closed as he chewed.

“Malfoy,” Harry replied at once while Atlas and Ginny rolled their eyes at each other.

“‘Course,” Ron said bitterly, grabbing another frog. Atlas watched him and slyly dragged her pile closer to herself, brows furrowed at the boy’s piggish movements.

“And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson,” Hermione declared viciously and Atlas turned to her, noting how her face scrunched up in distaste, “how she got to be a prefect when she’s thicker than a concussed troll…”

“She’s popular,” Atlas shrugged and pulled Hermione’s head against her shoulder in an attempt to calm her. “Don’t let it bother you, just need to ignore them. Don’t think Pansy will be bothering us or me any time soon anyway.”

“I doubt anyone would dare bother you regardless,” Ginny smirked, crossing her arms. Atlas flicked a wrapper at her which she batted away, turning to her brother curiously. “So, who are Hufflepuff’s?”

“Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott,” Ron supplied, Atlas swallowed her chocolate, frowning slightly. Ernie was one of Cedric’s friends. She shook her head again and sighed, rubbing down her face to occupy her lone twitchy hand, connected to that shaky arm of hers. 

“And Ravenclaw?” Harry asked, blind to his sister’s movements.

“Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil,” Hermione said and pressed her leg against Atlas’s, nudging her softly. “You ok?” she whispered.

“My arm…” Atlas mumbled and Hermione frowned, reaching over and taking the arm between her soft palms, “What are you doing?”

“Massage, my mum says it can work wonders for the muscle,” Hermione told, focusing intently on the burns of Atlas’s left arm, her hands working diligently. Atlas watched her and then smiled gently, her eyes drifting down to the girl’s hands to watch her attempt. It felt nice, Atlas would admit and she could feel the tension dissipate as everyone else chattered around them, leaving her and Hermione to talk between themselves. “I asked her about it a few weeks ago, before Dumbledore wanted me to join everyone at Grimmauld Place. You know, Tonks had been following me the entire summer. I was confused as to why but…I think I know now.”

“Oh yeah?” Atlas muttered, still staring at Hermione’s hands around her arm, not entirely listening.

“You had Dumbledore do it.”

“Mmmm — what?” Atlas looked up, dull brown catching Hermione’s glistening. “I…well, I didn’t — I didn’t specifically ask, I just…” she furrowed her brows, mouth open as she tried to think up some excuse that wouldn’t reveal what Barty Crouch Junior had said that night, what he had tried to do.

“I know why…” Hermione frowned, her brows downcast and Atlas’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat as her thoughts ground to a screeching halt, her heart thundering in her ears, “Harry told me what Crouch said…it sort of came up when he first got to Headquarters, he was angry you know? I –” Atlas jumped up, sending the compartment into silence, “Atlas?”

“I…I need a minute…” She gasped, throwing the sliding door open and stumbling outside. She heard Hermione call out to her, urging for her to stop but she didn’t listen, her head down as she pushed through a few mingling bodies and headed for the very back of the train. 

Her head pounded abruptly, her thoughts suddenly of her time in isolation, suddenly wishing she was still confined to that warehouse because it seemed everyone around her in this open world was deadset on having Atlas relive everything that happened at the end of the school year prior. First, it was Remus, giving his condolences in regards to Cedric – Atlas stumbled at the memory – then it was Shaklebolt, reminding her of Voldemort – she gritted her teeth, a pit of nausea in her stomach – Harry’s declaration on the landing, the Boggart, Moody assigning her guard duty, Ron and Hermione’s prefect duties, the chat with Cho, Hermione reminding her of Barty Crouch Junior —

She burst through the door at the tail of the train, the very end, her hands slamming against the rails and her whole upper body tipping over the edge, her hair caught in the wind, swept behind her as she heaved, nausea she had felt growing to an overwhelming amount. When she was done, her stomach empty, she fell backwards, against the metal door, her head in her hands as she panted, face pale, sweating. 

The warm summer air was now replaced by something cooler to fit the Northern climate and Atlas was grateful for it as she tilted her head upwards, enjoying the cold against her feverish skin. Then she ran her hands down her face, shaking her head as the wind roared past her ears, the train’s wheels against the track, a rhythmic pattern of noises. Her arm had stopped shaking, she noticed, though she knew it would come back.

She stared upon it, closing her eyes tight after some deliberation as she thought back to Hermione, her words that had tipped her just over the edge. Harry had told her what Crouch had said at the end of last year, the fact that he had tried to lead her to her demise, all because of Atlas. Fleetingly, Atlas had wondered if Hermione had any hesitancy towards her now, knowing she was closer to an untimely end if she stuck around her and Atlas wouldn’t have blamed her if she did, but she knew Hermione wasn’t like that. Seen it in the way she had greeted her just the day prior.

It was just her self-loathing. That guilt she could never wash her hands of. The figurative blood that stained her hands in the form of an onyx ring.

A knock.

Atlas tilted her head again, looking up and at Hermione, her face pressed to the glass as she smiled sheepishly, her hand raised. After a moment of silence, Atlas moved, shuffling away from the door and facing away as the old hinges creaked open over the thunderous wind. Hermione stepped outside, wrapping her jacket tighter around herself as she sat down, shoulder to shoulder against Atlas.

“You’re hot,” Hermione voiced after a moment, Atlas glanced at her, “in a temperature way.”

“Mhmm,” Atlas nodded.

“Sorry I sprung that on you…I just wanted to tell you I’m thankful, you sort of…ran out before I could say anything,” Hermione muttered and Atlas only just caught it over the noise of the speeding train. “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you –“

“It wasn’t just you…everyone is bringing up something and it’s frustrating because…because why can’t people let the past remain in the past?”

“When it stops affecting the present…” Hermione offered, leaning her head against Atlas’s shoulder. Atlas paused, then, her body tensing at her words as she turned slightly, looking upon Hermione’s thoughtful face in the corner of her eye. “Atlas…you need to talk about last summer –“

“No.”

“Atlas –“

“I said no! Why won’t anybody accept that I just don’t want to think about it!?”

“But you need to –“

“Hermione, shut up!” Atlas snapped, chest heaving as her arm shook, she could feel her eyes growing hot and that angered her even further. Merlin, she was pathetic, she’d spent two months trying to control her outburst yet she was just as bad, maybe even worse than she had been. At least she didn’t accidentally crush the train.

Two warm palms wrapped around her arm again and Atlas flinched from her all-consuming thoughts, looking down at Hermione, stunned to see her still there, with her, quiet, now sat across from her, massaging her shaking arm.

“Why won’t you let yourself deal with it, Atlas? You have the right to grieve too.”

“I — I have grieved…” Atlas said, her brows tight and her mouth a thin line. 

“No…you’re trying to forget,” she looked up, catching Atlas’s eye again, “there’s a difference. Grieving isn’t forgetting, it’s — it’s remembering our loss, but with a newfound sense of…calm, rather than searing agony.”

“When did you become such an expert,” Atlas muttered, crossing one of her arms over her chest while the other remained in Hermione’s grasp.

“I…I read some books about it — over the summer.”

“Why?” Atlas asked though she knew the answer.

“Because I knew you would be like this.”

“Be like what exactly?” Atlas snapped defensively, eyes glaring into Hermione’s just as fiery ones.

“Avoidant. Atlas, I’m not going to tell you that you need to deal with it right now because that’s not how it works but you do need to, first, process everything that…happened. Grief never truly goes away, we just grow larger around it,” Hermione’s hands dropped to Atlas’s, thumbs caressing burnt skin and old callouses, “that is…if we don’t ignore it, otherwise the grief will grow instead and you — you’ll burst, Atty…and I don’t want that to happen.”

“It won’t…”

“Atty –“

“I’ll deal with it.” She stood, pulling Hermione up with her. “But not — not now.”

“When?”

“When I deal with it,” Atlas muttered and then turned, pulling down the latch of the metal door. “Come on…let’s see what everyone is up to.”

“Atlas.”

“Yes, Hermione?” 

“I love you, you know that right? You can talk to me and I’ll — I’ll be there for you, always,” Atlas turned, looking at Hermione with slightly widened eyes while Hermione simply stared back, brows furrowed in some sort of determination, her eyes telling of something earnest.

“I know you do.”

“Good.”

“Yeah…good.”