MAGIANIMA // Hermione Granger

Reunion

Darkness ruled the room, two faint balls of gold gliding around the space, pacing, occasionally stopping, looking to their only window, tinted and faintly letting the setting sunlight beyond through and into the gloom. It was hot, sweltering, the room like a furnace as the figure moved throughout it, muttering under their breath, shouldering past swinging bags fixed in the ceiling and wiping droplets of sweat from their face. They continued, walking in circles, eyes flickering from gold to brown.

And then, the door opened and a light burst to life, illuminating the room at once. Atlas stopped, her eyes cooling as she glanced up, standing straighter. She was taller now, harder in her features, sweat cascading down her bare abdomen and gathering at her navel, her hairs stuck to her forehead -- the side of her face, and it was shorter, no longer resting on her shoulders as it now stopped just past her jaw. There was a way in which she held herself that was different and as she unbound her hands from the wrappings she wore, Moody stepped inside, clawed foot clinking as he did.

They remained silent, Atlas watching the man as he took a swig from his hipflask, magical eye whizzing around the room and fixing on her. She waited, sitting down next to a shelf holding an assortment of artefacts, all used in some way to detect disturbances or evil, to protect their user, some were broken, some weren't put together, some looked brand new. They had been Amaya's things. They were sat in Amaya's old quarters, left alone in one of Moody's safe houses.

It was where Atlas had been staying, where she had been studying all summer, trying to control her Fear, learning new spells with wands unregistered to the Ministry and she was good, her spells were good but they were not Atlas. Because those wands were not hers. They were not the wand that sang to her and connected with her soul, her magic, they did not know exactly what she wanted and produced results that were essentially right but so wrong.

She dusted off the hem of her shorts, fiddling with the frayed fabric as she waited.

"We're going to dinner, tonight. As a meeting before you go back to school tomorrow." Moody said finally and Atlas looked up, jumping to her feet. 

"And, what of Harry's trial? They didn't expel him, did they? He had a right to protect himself from that Dementor. You said you would finally tell me before our first dinner," Her voice was sharper, harsher, there was an edge to it that covered the usual playful and soft note it held.

"He was let off," Moody growled, shuffling through a drawer and pulling out a pile of clothes, Amaya's clothes, they were old but in good condition and Atlas had taken a few other garments for Hogwarts. Moody certainly wouldn't be able to wear them. "Here, shower and get changed, I want you to go to the shop...Muggles stare too much...draws attention to me."

"Was it the scars that caught their eye? Because if so I don't think I'll be treated much different," Atlas said, motioning to her own scarred face. Moody did not respond. "Anything notable happen? You've told me Percy has switched sides, right hand to the Minister and I already know about Dumbledore losing his place in the Wizengamot as Chief Warlock because of his insistence that Voldemort is back, it was all over the Daily Prophet."

"The Order --"

"I meant in general. I don't want any part in the Order."

"And what if the Order wants part of you, eh? You don't have a choice, Atlas," Moody growled and Atlas wavered, her mouth clamping shut as her eyes flared a nasty gold. "Dumbledore has ordered you have no part in the Order throughout the summer...but that time is coming to an end...the Order needs new blood and you are leagues ahead of your peers. I'm sorry, Atlas...but that is Dumbledore's word and I trust it. Just as your mother did."