Chapter 90

Deeper and deeper the words in her hand dived, blood seeping from the cracks with every bold stroke, every unwavering letter. The smell of copper, like old knut coins, plagued Atlas’s senses, her eyes flickering brightly with every new line while the red that fell from her hand merged the old together. Outside, the wind howled and faint bodies flew the air, Atlas had not watched she had instead heard, listened to her distant teammates as the Quidditch trials persisted through the breezy conditions. But the pains that shot through her hand, up her arm, had her mind ensnared, collapsing in a controlled and agonisingly slow procedure. 

And after holding on, persevering for the past week, continuously scraping words into her own skin, she finally gave and let out a gasp of pain, a solitary tear falling from her eye, down to her chin and then to the parchment, soaking through just as her blood did. She’d pressed too hard, written too quickly and now her hand shook, the quill falling from her fingers as she grasped her wrist within the spasming palm of her left hand. The pain was suddenly unbearable, true agony.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” Umbridge picked up the quill, “you have gone far deeper than I could have hoped.”

“What did you do?” Atlas asked through gritted teeth, her bleeding hand burning with white-hot pain.

“Oh no, dear, it’s not what I have done, it’s what you’ve done to yourself. This special quill of mine isn’t made to go quite so deep yet in your determination, you’ve inflicted quite some damage,” Umbridge smiled, grabbing at Atlas’s hand and pulling it closer to her, “oh yes, it seems the magic of this quill is harming you quite a bit. Excellent.”

She dropped it and Atlas bit back another whine of agony when it collided with the desk.

“You may go now, Atlas. There’s no need to come back tomorrow, I seem to have made my point, I hope after this, you’ll put Mr Potter on a tighter leash,” She smiled, sweetly so that it actually reached her eyes. It was genuine and that made it unsettling. “Oh, and do keep this quiet for now, it’ll be our little secret, yeah? Just like old times.” Atlas nodded, swallowed thickly and scrambled to her feet, grabbing her bag quickly and hurrying from the room, desperate to put some distance between herself and that vile woman.

Night had fallen by now and the stars shone brightly in the sky, Atlas clutched her hand to her chest and glanced out of every window she passed, silent tears falling from her eyes that started to greatly anger her. It was only the first week of term and she was already tired, her hands already sticky with her own blood, her year already ruined before it could begin. She walked blindly, eyes downcast as she climbed stairs, turned down hallways and pushed out into a nightly breeze. 

The astronomy tower was a lovely place.

She sighed and sat on the edge, looking out and over the Forbidden Forest, watching the Thestrals sore over the trees and listening to the animals and creatures turning in for the night. She turned her eyes to the sky, gazing at the stars, the bright moon reflected in her tears. A shuddering breath left her and she looked at her hand, rummaging through her pocket to grab her handkerchief. The blood had dried, a large clot had formed over the words and stopped the bleeding, so, she wet the cloth and delicately dabbed against the spots that decorated her skin, cleaning it quietly.

By the time she had finished, the wind had slowly become bitter against her cheeks and her hands grew stiff from the cold so she pulled her gloves out of her bag, the ones Hermione had given her those years prior and carefully manoeuvred them over that detentions wound. She winced at the action regardless of how delicate she tried to be, her left hand still spasming at odd instances and her right still shaking from the pain of being gouged into. Not to mention how heavy her movements were. So she ended up jogging the raw flesh quite a bit and hoped it hadn’t started bleeding again.

“You’re not supposed to be up here.”

Atlas almost fell off of the edge at the sudden voice, her heart lurching to her throat, she spun around and looked up at the redheaded boy, finding his gaze was still averted as it had been for the past few days and that he looked thoroughly uncomfortable.

“Then — then why are you up here?”

“Prefect rounds, I’ve got no choice. You’re lucky I wasn’t Hermione.”

“Right…” Atlas sighed and hastily snatched her blood ridden handkerchief from the floor, shoving it in her bag. “Ok, yeah, sorry, I’ll go.”

“I — er — I made the team,” Ron suddenly said and Atlas looked at him again as she stood, “thanks for not telling Angelina to –“

“I wouldn’t have, I just –” Atlas shook her head, letting out a solemn breath from her nose, “I’m sorry, Ron. I shouldn’t have threatened you. I just wanted to stop you and Hermione from having to be locked in a room with Umbridge, the same as I did for Harry.”

“Hermione told me you did it because you want to protect us,” Ron nodded, he seemed to understand so Atlas’s shoulders, so full of tension, slackened, a breath leaving her without so much as a waver. “I get it but she…well, she’s really angry.”

“I gathered as much.”

“But she’s also upset.”

“Yeah, I know,” Atlas muttered, rubbing her hands down her face. “Look, Ron, congrats on making the team, yeah? I’ll see you tomorrow or something…”

She gathered her things and moved to leave.

“Atlas, we’re still mates, aren’t we?”

She stopped. “…yeah,” and turned, reaching out to ruffle the boy’s hair, “‘course we are.”

“Good…happy birthday.”

“Right, my birthday…thanks,” Atlas nodded and then left, jogging down the stairs and continuing until she found herself in front of The Lady’s portrait.

The Lady opened upon seeing her but Atlas remained outside, contemplative for a moment, staring at the fabric of the painting before stepping inside after a heavy pause. She bid The Lady goodnight and took a slow walk to her dorm room, pushing the door open carefully and then dropping her bag with a loud thump when she realised that, of course, Hermione wasn’t inside, Ron had just told her prefects were doing rounds after all.

Crookshanks shot up from his spot in the middle of Hermione’s bed and practically pounced on her, climbing as he usually did and almost desperately brushing his head against the side of her face. The cat mewled loudly and Atlas smiled, stroking him with just as much affection as he showed her. Kalo hooted from her bed frame, seemingly glaring at her accusingly and staying perched stubbornly, he did, however, ruffle his feathers in a show of concealed excitement, Little Robin wasn’t quite so subtle and very eagerly flew circles around Atlas’s head.

“I haven’t been gone long,” Atlas huffed and kicked off her shoes, her animal friends followed as she got ready for bed, even her Agoniser trophy reanimated to greet her. The room felt a lot warmer then and when she moved to go to bed, that warmth tripled, a small note lay on her desk, written prettily and neat, Hermione’s name signed at the bottom with a little Ausrumba by its side. Even when she was mad, it was a small relief to know Hermione wasn’t going to completely ignore her existence.

There was a small box beside it and Atlas picked it up, carefully taking the lid off and peering inside. It was a bracelet, a thin cuff with three different gemstones embedded into the leather, Atlas furrowed her brows, looking at it quizzically as she plucked it from the box and held it in her palm. She turned it over a few times and then looked back in the box, finding a small folded piece of paper in the bottom, she opened it, reading it slowly.

The green gem is green aventurine, it’s said to prevent problems with the heart; The black, is obsidian, it will help you bring repressed feelings to the surface so that you can begin your process of emotional healing and the yellow, is citrine, it removes stress and exhaustion, apparently it’ll make you feel calm. Though I don’t know the success rate of these gems, I’ve done enough research to know they do have some proven magical properties within them. 

Happy Birthday.

The note slipped from Atlas’s fingers and back into the box, she smiled briefly, letting out a quiet huff of disbelief before putting the box back on her desk and slipping the leather around her wrist, tightening it so it sat, comfortable and somewhat nicely against her skin. And maybe it was the gesture or maybe it was truly the magic of the stones but Atlas felt suddenly genuinely at ease.

In fact, she felt so at ease she drifted off to sleep and didn’t wake up until late the very next day, which also meant she had missed the beginning of practice. Quidditch practice. Angelina might not have been too upset with her for missing trials but she would be if she missed their first practice. At once she stood, scrambling out of her uniform and into some casual clothes while Crookshanks watched, unamusedly from Hermione’s bed, his tail swishing irritably and though that was probably because the Agoniser had taken to hunting the bushy limb, Atlas could tell her sudden movements had definitely disturbed him from a nap.

With a quick apology and a brief kiss on the head, Atlas rushed her goodbyes and left, jogging down the stairs with her hands in her hair, tying it up into her regular half-tail. The Common Room was full, bustling bodies all chatting and doing their homework but it all ceased when Atlas came crashing into the room. Their books were suddenly dropped and everyone peered over their activities to watch Atlas as she bound out of the portrait, listening to her muffled voice as she apologised for handling The Lady so roughly.

Outside, Atlas was still running, her movements erratic as she burst into the Gryffindors changing room and grabbed all of her old gear, slipping it on as quickly as she could. She could see the team already in the air, doing incredibly horrible practice runs and winced, summoning her Firebolt from their team broom rack. Clear skies stretched as far as the eye could see and while it was chilly, a cold breeze wafting over them, Atlas couldn’t think up any excuse as to why the team was practising so poorly, she really shouldn’t have slept in.

“So now she decides to join us!” Angelina cried, throwing her hands in the air incredulously. “Took your time!”

“Sorry, I slept in!” Atlas panted, settling beside Angelina in the air as she adjusted her gloves uncomfortably, wincing when some of the fabric caught on her healing skin. “What have I missed?”

“A shit show, the Slytherins have come to watch and I think it’s getting to Ron,” Angelina sighed and Atlas turned to the stands finding that, indeed, the Slytherins had made camp and were snickering to each other, Draco and Pansy surrounded by their respective friend groups. She turned to Ron. He was red to the roots of his hair, movements jerky and unsure. “Look, now that you’re here maybe things will start looking up — everyone, let’s practice some passes again now that Atlas is here!”

George appeared with the Quaffle and tossed it to Atlas, grinning widely. She caught it, of course, and slung it over to Fred, shooting across the field and waiting for it to come back to her, she swivelled around on her broom when it landed with George again and had to lunge sideways to catch it after he’d thrown it awkwardly. She frowned and threw a reverse pass to Angelina before it slipped from her fingers, turning to shoot a look at the twin.

“Just making sure you didn’t go rusty being cooped up in a warehouse all summer,” George shrugged and Atlas sighed, catching another pass with her eyes still fixed firmly on the boy. He threw his hands in the air defensively and Atlas flung the Quaffle at him so hard he let out a low grunt when it collided with his stomach. It then went to Harry and in turn, Ron, the boy catching it after the red ball almost slipped through his fingers again and, perhaps out of relief, he passed it on so enthusiastically that it soared straight through Katie’s outstretched hands and hit her hard in the face.

“Sorry!” Ron shouted, going forwards to see the damage he had caused.

“Get back in position, she’s fine!” Angelina barked, she was clearly growing quite agitated. “But as you’re passing to a teammate, do try not to knock her off her broom, won’t you? We’ve got Bludgers for that!”

Even from halfway across the pitch Atlas could see the steady stream of red that fell from Katie’s nose, putting a tight grimace on her face. Below, however, it seemed the Slytherins found the charade all too hilarious and laughed at the Chaser’s misfortune. Atlas’s gloves tightened around the handle of her broomstick.

“All right,” Angelina called, “Fred, George, go and get your bats and a Bludger. Ron, get up to the goalposts. Harry, release the Snitch when I say so. Katie, Atlas and I are going to aim for Ron’s goal, obviously.”

The twins and Harry zoomed of the pitch, leaving Atlas with the opportunity to fly over to Ron, the boy mumbling to himself and picking at his nails. She slowed beside him and bumped her shoulder with his.

“You all right?”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

“Oh come on, Ron. There’s a reason Angelina chose you out of all the other recruits to be Keeper,” Atlas reasoned, swiping a hand through her hair and leaning back on her broom to stretch her arms above her. “She clearly sees something in you.”

“I can’t even catch the Quaffle let alone defend from one!”

“You’re just nervous, it’s your first practice.”

“I heard Fred and George saying during your first practice you played Keeper for a bit so Oliver could test out his capabilities as Chaser,” Ron muttered, “they said you were on par with him! And you don’t even play Keeper!”

“Fred and George like to exaggerate,” Atlas sighed, “but even so, I’ve been flying since I was really little Ron, you’ve only just started training, give yourself some time.”

Angelina blew her whistle and Atlas glanced over to her, turning back to Ron a moment later to pat his shoulder.

“You’ll do fine, Ron.”

“Not when I’m defending against you…”

“Don’t sell yourself so short, mate.”

Fred and George released the Bludger and Harry let his Snitch fly. The Quaffle flew through the air and Atlas jumped up to receive it, turning with a sharp pull and batting the red ball through the lowest hoop with the bristles of her broomstick. After that, Angelina took point, flying through the bludgers that tore past her and pocketing a goal of her own, leaving Ron redder than he ever had been, repositioning himself on his broom after his latest slip up. Atlas heard Angelina groan when she flew by and looked over at Ron with a small worried frown.

It took several more goals before Angelina blew her whistle again. “Stop — stop — STOP!” She practically screamed and Atlas winced at the volume, “Ron — you’re not covering your middle post!”

“Oh, sorry…” Ron replied sheepishly, quickly flying back to the middle of the three hoops after drifting off very heavily to the left. Atlas tore her gaze from him and observed the rest of her teammates, furrowing her brows when she spotted Katie, wobbly on her broom with very little colour to her face.

“You keep shifting around while you’re watching the Chasers!” Angelina chastised. Atlas quickly dove down to meet the girl, accelerating further when she saw Katie’s grip slip from her broom. “Either stay in centre position until you have to move to defend a hoop, or else circle the hoops –“

“Angelina!”

“– but don’t drift vaguely off to one side, that’s how you let in the last three goals!’

“Angelina!”

“What, Atlas!?” Angelina practically roared, turning viciously to stare down at her fellow Chaser, however, she grew wide-eyed at what she saw. Atlas had pulled Katie onto her broom, her arms wrapped around the girl to stop her from falling. She lowered to her level and flew over, hovering next to Atlas as she surveyed Katie’s state. “She needs the hospital wing.”

“We’ll take her,” Fred piped in, flying over with George in tow, “she — er — might have swallowed a Blood Blisterpod by mistake –“

“You idiots,” Atlas snapped as Angelina shook her head in annoyance.

“Well, there’s no point continuing with no Beaters and a Chaser gone,” Angelina sighed glumly as Atlas hesitantly relinquished her care of Katie and handed her over to the two very ashamed looking twins. At least they seemed to be regretful. “Come on, let’s go and get changed.”

A sudden idea struck Atlas as her gaze meandered over to the goalposts.

“Actually, Angelina…I was wondering if Ron and I could use the rest of the time you booked,” Atlas whispered and Angelina glanced at her, her eyes then trailing over to Ron who had started slowly descending from the sky. She nodded quickly and then left, leaving Atlas to fly over to Ron, interrupting whatever was going on between him and Harry. “Ron, I was wondering if you’d like to stay with me and practice?”

“We’ve got homework to do,” Harry said as if that settled the matter but Ron remained in the sky, looking between the feuding god siblings hesitantly. “Come on, Ron, aren’t you coming?”

“Actually, Harry, I think it’s a good idea if I stay,” Ron muttered and Harry went a little wide-eyed, scowling suddenly.

“Fine, do what you want.”

“Oh come on mate, don’t be like that –“

“I said, fine, didn’t I?” Harry spat and turned, floating down to join Angelina on the field. Ron sighed solemnly and Atlas frowned, watching her godbrother go with a hint of regret, she shook her head, the wound on the back of her hand burning bright.

“Let’s get on with it then, yeah?” Atlas spoke and Ron nodded slowly. Atlas dove down to quickly grab the Quaffle and returned to the sky, motioning for Ron to take his spot in goal. “The Slytherins stayed behind but let’s think of it as a good thing, ok Ron?”

“Why is it a good thing?” he asked, grimacing as another long string of mocking words were hollered from the small puddle of green below.

“It’ll numb you to the incessant noise of insects,” Atlas grinned and Ron managed a small smile of his own. “Now, rule number one, don’t follow the Chasers, follow the Quaffle. Rule number two, keep your broom steady, think of it as an extension of yourself, if you’re collected, so is your broomstick. And three –” the Quaffle soared past Ron and straight through the topmost hoop, “– don’t let your opponent distract you.”

“Hey, that was so unfair, you git!”

“You think the enemy cares about being fair, Ronald?”

“Well…no, but –“

“Exactly,” the Quaffle had appeared in Atlas’s hand again, Ron hadn’t even seen her retrieve it, “Eyes on the Quaffle!”

Night had fallen by the time Ron and Atlas ventured back into the changing rooms, their booked slot for practice long since expired but they didn’t care, Ron was laughing and Atlas was smiling, pointing at the large bruise that was forming around his eye after he’d used his face to block one of Atlas’s shots. The two of them all but tossed the gear into their lockers, Ron eagerly volunteering to put their brooms back before they left for Gryffindor Tower.

They chatted the entire way, talking about things that Atlas had missed within the group while she distanced herself and what had happened with Atlas while she was alone, which wasn’t a lot. Ron had pointed out the gemmed leather cuff about a few floors from their Common Room, talking about how irritable Hermione had been for the past few days.

“Honestly, me and Harry used to always say how much we hated it when you and Hermione fought because she’d get so quick to rage,” Ron ranted, throwing his hands up in the air as Atlas frowned. “I think you should talk, use the gift as a conversation starter. Hermione is stubborn, we all know that and she’s never the one who will ever make a move to make up, no matter how badly she might want to. I mean, remember the argument after trial one last year?”

“How can I not?” Atlas grimaced and then sighed. “I don’t think it’s as easy as bringing up my birthday present, Ron. Hermione won’t really be ok unless I accept the fact she wants to protect me.”

“So just accept it?”

“Again, easier said than done. She wants us to protect each other instead of just me protecting her,” Atlas groaned as Ron shrugged, looking confused.

“Is that not what mates do? We stick up for each other, you know, in sickness and in health.”

“Isn’t that something to do with marriage?”

“Could work in friendships though,” Ron pointed out and Atlas couldn’t argue his logic. “I mean…Atlas we know there’s another reason. Hermione and I have been talking about it because Harry gets really annoyed when we mention you in front of him — well Hermione just thinks he gets angry because of how upset it makes him — anyway, we agree there must be something your not telling us.”

“I’ve already said I just want to protect you,” Atlas muttered.

“Yeah, I understand that mate but you weren’t as adamant about it before, maybe on Harry’s behalf but before you’d just tell us to stay out of the toad-faces way, you wouldn’t threaten us,” Ron said and Atlas glanced at him, narrowing her brows with a frown. “Look, I’m just saying we know there’s another reason, maybe two, one for me and Hermione and one for Harry.”

“Speculate all you want Ron,” Atlas whispered, clenching her jaw, “I hope you’ll never find out the answer,” she added and then looked up, knocking on The Lady’s painting gently to wake her up from her slumber. “I’m sorry for waking you, my Lady but could you let us through?”

“Oh, Atlas dear, did you have fun flying, the gargoyles have alerted everyone of student’s out of bed and I figured it was you. I see you’re with a prefect so I don’t have to tattle,” she smiled playfully and Atlas smiled back.

“I had a lot of fun, M’lady, it was all very productive, Ron saved a good number of my shots,” Atlas said, motioning to Ron over her shoulder who gaped at the exchange, mouth hung open in a way that was incredibly unattractive, it made The Lady grimace.

“Yes, very…impressive,” she hesitated and then turned her gaze upon Atlas, “Well, I’ll let you go in, sweet dreams, Atlas.”

“You too, Lady,” Atlas bowed and walked inside, dragging a flabbergasted Ron with her. “If a strong gust of wind came by you’re face’d get stuck like that.”

“You’re friends with The Fat Lady?”

“Drop the Fat, Ron, it’s rude,” Atlas scolded and then nodded, “she was friends with my mum.”

“Is there anybody your mother wasn’t friends with?”

“Her killer, apparently,” Atlas replied and Ron didn’t know whether to laugh or cry so instead he smiled awkwardly. “I’m going up to bed then, finish up some of my essays, you did good today Ron, sorry about the situation I put you in earlier with Harry.”

“Oh, right, I almost forgot about that. I should go and apologise,” Ron frowned as Atlas shrugged, she didn’t think Ron should be the one to apologise but didn’t say anything to deter him, instead, she offered another quiet goodbye and jogged up the stairs to her dorm room. She swung open the door without any real thought and kicked off her shoes, pulling off her jumper to toss on her bed.

A ball of fur brushed against her ankles and she crouched down to scratch behind Crookshanks’s ears, “hello, sir, have you forgiven me for waking you up earlier? You have? Well, aren’t I –” Atlas looked up as she stood, Crookshanks, purring in her arms as she locked eyes with a studying Hermione, “–lucky…”

“Afternoon.”

“Afternoon, Hermione,” Atlas nodded stiffly.

She placed Crookshanks back on the floor, grabbing her own bag to sit at her desk, homework sprawled out across it. She cleared her throat awkwardly, dipping her quill in her inkpot and grabbing a piece of parchment to get started on Minerva’s essay on the Inanimatus Conjurus Spell but, of course, she couldn’t concentrate and ended up with a few inky blotches staining her paper.

“Er –” Hermione looked up from her essay and turned, staring at Atlas expectantly but Atlas closed her mouth and swallowed solidly, “can I have a piece of parchment?”

“…all right,” Hermione slid a piece over and Atlas took it silently, nodding in thanks only to shake her head.

“Actually…” Atlas began and Hermione looked at her again, eyebrows furrowed, Atlas couldn’t tell if she was annoyed at her for interrupting or stalling, “I…I accept that you want to protect me, as well.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…but –” Atlas continued and Hermione’s slow smile had stopped, dropping quickly back to a frown. “Umbridge is non-negotiable…everything else is fair game — maybe — well,” Atlas stopped and shook her head, finding that she couldn’t really commit to her words, there were too many scenarios, unknown variables, “nevermind.”

“Atlas…” Hermione coaxed, fully twisting in her chair.

“Do you know how many enemies I have?”

“What?”

“Just…if you protect me, my enemies automatically become yours, so do you know how many enemies I have?” Atlas whispered and Hermione’s brows furrowed.

“Atlas if you’re saying what I think you’re saying then you might as well say the same for Harry. We know the risks.”

“See you know but you don’t know,” Atlas said, shaking her head adamantly, “Harry’s not the one who lost his brother just so his magic could be unleashed for entertainment. He’s not the one who almost lost the — the best thing that’s ever happened to him just because he cared about them so much,” Atlas looked at Hermione, earnestly and fearful. “You might not seem to care but when Crouch told me he was going to take you to the graveyard for the same reason he did Ced — Cedric, all I could think about was you dying, Hermione. It’s all I could think about. My — my Boggart changed from my mothers killer to your dead fucking body.

“So when I said it wasn’t just about the lines…when you and Ron have been talking about all the other possible reasons I’ve threatened you to stay out of harm’s way. That — that is the main reason and the same goes for Harry –” she laughed humourlessly, “– amongst other things.”

“Atlas, I –” Hermione’s mouth clamped shut, her eyebrows furrowed as her eyes darted across Atlas’s face, unsure of what to say.

“So excuse me…if I want to protect you from — from everything, from detention in a room with a woman who ruined my childhood to Death Eaters and inhuman beasts. I don’t want to see you get hurt — any of you. And if that means I get hurt even worse well…the sacrifice of one is worth the lives of many, isn’t it?”

“No it’s not,” Hermione whispered, shaking her head faintly, “who on earth…? Who told you that?”

“…no one, it’s just the truth. The brutal reality,” Atlas said and put a cap on her ink well, she didn’t think she could do any homework now.

“What if that one sacrifice was Harry?”

“What?”

“What if it was Ron?”

“That’s not the point –“

“What if it was me? What if I made the sacrifice to save everyone else?”

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Atlas reasoned, screwing her ruined parchment into a ball and tossing it in the bin.

“And I wouldn’t let you sacrifice yourself either, can you not see that I would want to do the same for you as you do for me? For Ron or Harry?” Hermione pressed, rising slowly from her chair but Atlas spun around and pushed her back into her seat, locking her in place by laying her arms at either side of her, hands firmly curled around the wood of her chair.

“Listen,” she bent down, so they were inches apart, “all I asked is that you let me handle Umbridge…that’s all I’ve asked, so why can’t you just do that?”

“Because you’re suffering, Atlas! You’re still dealing with what happened at the end of last year! You’re dealing with the fact that you’re being forced into the Order! And you’re dealing with your image of not being strong all the time!” Hermione yelled, not meeting Atlas’s eye as she rattled off frantically. “So I want to at least help you deal with the agony of being stuck in a room with a vile woman who ruined your childhood and hated you so much she suggested actual torture as punishment for a twelve-year-old! You won’t let me do anything else so lines are the least I can do!”

And Atlas gave, her forehead falling against Hermione’s shoulder with a soft thump as her arms slackened and the grip she had around the chair loosened. Hermione frowned and let out a quiet sigh, raising her hands slowly, one to Atlas’s hair while the other curled behind her neck and across her shoulders, holding her gently.

“I don’t do lines…”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I do but…” Atlas pulled away and fell into her own chair, fiddling with her hands and picking at the fabric of her gloves. She hunched forward, a look of conflict on her face while Umbridge’s words echoed in her head. Their little secret. “Shit…”

“Atlas?”

“Nevermind…ignore me,” Atlas resigned, standing up and getting ready for bed.

“How can I ignore you? Atlas, I — Atlas, what do you mean she doesn’t make you do lines?”

“She does!” Atlas snapped and then caught herself, sighing and turning to Hermione, “I’m sorry…she does. I do lines. I do lines until –” she chuckled dully, ” — until it feels like my hand is going to fall apart. Look, I’m sorry for worrying you and thank you for my birthday present, you can go back to ignoring me or whatever.”

“I’m not going to — I didn’t mean — Jesus, Atlas!” Hermione threw her hands up in the air as Atlas sat and pulled her trousers off, absentmindedly grabbing her pyjamas from under her pillow while Hermione fumed. “I only avoided you on Wednesday because I was still, admittedly, really angry at you for what you had said on Tuesday! After that, you were the one determined to stay out of my way, always sleeping somewhere else, eating so quickly you’re out of the Great Hall before I can sit with you and leaving classes as soon as the bell rings, even seconds before it as if you know when it’s going to sound!”

“But…Ron said you’d never make the first move, that you were too stubborn –“

“That’s when I argue with him! With everybody else — but I thought you’d know by now that you’re different!” Hermione yelled and Atlas stared at her, wide-eyed, processing the words because they sounded too emotional, too raw, too impassioned, to be strictly platonic, until, Hermione rushed to add something as an afterthought, looking as if she had said too much but Atlas didn’t see the look on her face, she only heard the words that followed. “Because you’re my best friend.”

“Right…” Atlas murmured and smiled half-heartedly, “your best friend,” she sighed, “I’m sorry, Hermione. I just — like you said I have a lot going on and you catching the attention of Umbridge is just going to add more to my plate, all right? So, right now, all I want you to do is be safe. And if you want to protect me, you’ll do that.”

“That’s so unfair…” Hermione whispered and then shook her head, turning to wipe her eyes as she sat back in her desk chair, “but fine…if that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

Hermione seemed to shake her head again, subtly this time, “goodnight, Atlas.”

“Night, Mione. I’m sorry.”

“…no, you’re not.”