MAGIANIMA // Hermione Granger

Lack Thereof

It was the day of the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff and Atlas was sat in the Great Hall, a bowl of porridge steaming in front of her. She ate it in silence, being the only one up at the unholy hour Crookshanks had woken her at. The cat had been urging her in the direction of the boys' dormitories throughout the entirety of that incredibly early morning. She hadn't gone, obviously and had instead resolved herself to get breakfast. She may trust the little bugger but she wasn't about to storm into Harry's room at the crack of dawn to see what the cat had been yowling about.

This led to her staring oddly at a wall across from her, hand mechanically bringing up spoonfuls of thick porridge to her mouth, she hated it when it was too thin, ended up more like soup and she didn't very much like soup. Stew was more her thing.

A sudden form dropped down beside her and she startled, turning abruptly to Harry who looked a lot like she did, dazed, tired but too excited or jittery to go back to bed. He turned to her and she mutely ladled him his own bowl of porridge earning a thankful nod in return. "Crookshanks...you?"

"Peeves," Harry grumbled quietly.

"Don't know why they never banished him," Atlas sighed, finishing off her porridge and grabbing a few pieces of toast to lather in strawberry jam.

"Hmm," Harry nodded slowly, "Crookshanks woke you? He was at my door when I opened it...I'm starting to think Ron was right, he really might have something against Scabbers."

"Well...he does smell," Atlas grinned, though it was tired and looked a little worn, "honestly..." she turned back to her food and took a bite, "does Ron wash him?"

"You know...I don't actually know," Harry mused, spooning another mouthful of porridge for himself. "I think he ought to if Crookshanks is really after him because he stinks."

"Yeah, then he won't yell at Hermione all of the time," Atlas nodded and looked up again when the entrance opened, the rest of the Gryffindor team pooling inside. "Team's here."

"Atlas, do you like Hermione?"

"Yeah? Course I do she's my friend," Atlas answered, waving the team over.

"No I meant...do you have a crush on her?"

"Oh...uh, no I don't," Atlas said, looking to him with furrowed brows, "Why?"

"I just thought...you know. I just thought you did because well...you make playful comments, and you like girls and Hermione is very beautiful," Harry tried, his own eyebrows furrowed as if Atlas was the one not making sense.

"Well...she's nice to be around and anyone would be lucky to have her," Atlas shrugged, "but just because I like girls doesn't mean I have a crush on every girl I befriend, though, I do agree, she is very beautiful."

"Who's beautiful?" Fred asked, sitting on Atlas's left, George doing the same on Harry's right so they were sandwiched together.

"Is it us?" George grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

"It's obviously us," Angelina smirked, sitting opposite them, Katie right beside her, "Right, Potter? Black? We're the true beauties of Gryffindor."

"Oh definitely," George winked and Katie laughed, pushing at Angelina's shoulder as the girl blushed. "So who are we talking about?"

A gasp and grin came from Fred who leaned to look at Atlas as she busied herself with another piece of toast, "Does our Atlas have a crush on somebody?"

"Who's the lucky lad?" Katie grinned, inching forward.

"More like lad-y," George corrected and everyone looked at him, "It's obvious, who calls a lad beautiful?"