MAGIANIMA // Hermione Granger

Betrayal

It was dark, cold and wet, Atlas's knees an angry red, her face a contortion of rage and fear. The trees rustled violently, the sky a boundless ocean of black with pale stars spattered across its canvas. Figures circled her, enclosed her, watched her, whispered, laughed as she panted, heaved, sweat cascading down the side of her face as her eyes frantically flitted from cloak to cloak, headstone to headstone, brother to brother. Brother to brother. Both bound, both scared, both faces taunting her vision, fading in and out. In and out. 

Until it was just one, the air going still, the trees retreating, slinking into the dark, roots whipping at the ground, desperate to get away, the stars faded, the sky's eyes closing their lids so it donned the look of an endless void, the figures vanished in clouds of darkened smoke and their endless laughter came to a close. It was just Atlas and her brother. Atlas and her brother and him -- them. The Snake and The Monster.

Just them, their nonsensical negotiation and the boundless sky.

If you join me, Astraea, I will let your brother live.

Who is Astraea? Astraea. Astraea. Astraea. She agreed, Astraea -- Atlas agreed through the screams, she nodded, the grass thrumming, the air buzzing again, the cloaks returned and the trees rewound. They came back, everything came back, the sky watched her again, stars unblinking, not twinkling. Yes...yes, the brother would be ok, he would be ok now. So, why did he smile? In a soft sort of defeat. A smile that signified a breath of relief.

Everything sped up now, too fast, too fast, The Snake coiled back on its word, it lied, it deceived and it bore its fangs and now he was bleeding - the brother - too much, from his eyes, his mouth, his ears, his nose, his --

Avada Kedavra!

The Snake said these words in its old tongue and somebody, somewhere, screamed, they screamed and they screamed. It made Atlas's ears ring, white smoke pouring from her lobes in lakes and then there were more screams, horrifying screams that echoed all around, coming from the dirt, the stone, the very gravel beneath her knees but never The Monster and never The Snake. But she could not bring herself to care, her arm was held out, straight in front of her reaching, reaching and reaching as her fingers grew dull around that ring, his ring, that grey hue invading the whole of her hand, snaking up her arm, to her shoulder, higher and higher. Higher and higher.

And his face appeared, the father, not hers but his, her brother's father and he was large, he was standing over her, face contorted, it was not human, it couldn't have been, yet it remained uncanny and Atlas was suddenly scared, so very scared.

Monster! -- Because of you! -- My boy! -- Monster! 

No.

"Atlas!"

No, no, no.

"Atlas, wake up!"

It wasn't her fault.

"Atlas!"

"No!" Atlas jolted forward, her hands tangled in her sheets, hair stuck to the sides of her face, chest heaving, shirt sweaty and eyes stinging with salted tears. She gasped for breath, swimming up from her pool of despair as she often did in the mornings, her routine, a routine she had liked to keep private. A lonesome ritual she hated to partake in.

But it was no longer a private thing because there were two large brown eyes staring into hers, worried, distressed and tender. They had witnessed the whole thing, Hermione had seen her fighting her sheets, clutching her pillow, crying, screaming for people who were long gone. Dead and gone.