MAGIANIMA // Hermione Granger

Ceaselessly Loyal

"Ah, Atlas Magianima! Our Final champion! In you come...nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment!"

"Evening Mr Bagman," Atlas murmured.

The photographs were being taken in a fairly small, unused, classroom at the offside of the entrance hall. Atlas knew the place to usually be quite unkempt but it seemed the house-elves had been in for morning cleaning. The desks and chairs were pushed to the back of the room, leaving a small space in the middle where Rita Skeeter - that pest of a woman -  stood,  with a row of chairs behind her and a chalkboard depicting the names of the candidates, hers below Fleur's but above Harry's.

Rita eyed her dangerously as she fully walked into the room, glancing over to the other side to see all the other champions watching her with varying emotions across their faces. Fleur was eager, seemingly wanting to speak, Krum was unbothered, simply brooding over his wand and Harry was already walking over to her with a smile which she promptly returned. She greeted him by tugging him into a hug, patting his back heartily.

"How did Potions go?"

"Don't get me started," Harry sighed, pulling away. "Are you ok? I see the uh...the thing," he made a motion to his jaw, obviously referring to the lines that were still on her face from the leather straps of the muzzle. "It's off, that's good."

"Yeah, Madam Pomfrey got it off for me. I told Hermione and I think she may have gone rogue," Atlas said, smiling nervously at the thought.

"Oh, really?" Harry tried to sound surprised but the smug look on his face said otherwise. "Well, I'm glad you're ok, honestly...I wanted nothing more than to--"

"Ah, don't say that when she's around," Atlas whispered, motioning with her eyes in Rita's direction. "She'll have it in bold print across the Daily Prophet and trust me, you do not want that kind of publicity."

"Too late, she already interviewed me," Harry winced, rubbing his neck awkwardly. Atlas bit back the sigh that bubbled up her throat and simply clapped the boy's shoulder sympathetically, turning back to the room as a whole and walking to join the rest of the champions at the back. Well, she went to join them, however, a heavy hand landed on her bitten shoulder and she grimaced, glancing at Bagman as the man gave her a boyish smile. With a hint of nervousness in his crinkled eyes.

"Actually Atlas, I told Rita you'd have an interview with her."

"I -- well," Atlas let out a defeated breath through her nose and let go of Harry's shoulder, walking over to Rita with a very tight smile across her face. Rita simply grinned, messing with her rigid curls as they grew closer before lurching forward and grabbing Atlas's hand, shaking it firmly. "Rita."

"Hello, Atlas," She turned to Ludo. "We'll be going then?"

"Well--"

"Lovely," she smiled, dragging Atlas over to the broom cupboard in the corner of the room. 

Atlas had to duck to make it inside, sitting down on a sturdy-looking box and watching as Rita sat down on an upturned bucket. The candles were lit and Rita's handbag was already inside, meaning she had known Atlas would have had no choice but to be interviewed. That thought made Atlas scowl. It was, again, a tight fit, not made for someone of Atlas's height. Her knees were bent from how low her seat was and Rita wasn't a petite woman herself, probably standing at the same height as Minerva, perhaps, even more so if one were to add the inches she gained wearing those dangerously tall high-heels, so they looked quite odd and were definitely too close together. 

Being close to the woman always made Atlas uncomfortable because she used to think, when she was a small child, that Rita could peer into her brain and pick at all of her darkest secrets. Though just childhood speculation, an irrational fear if you will, it still stuck and Atlas made sure to keep any entrances to her brain angled away from the woman.