MAGIANIMA // Hermione Granger

Christmas Deadline

Consequences were things Atlas took most of her time worrying over, she considered them every moment of the day, they kept her up at night and haunted her mornings, yet she had neglected to consider what might happen to her when the interview she had done alongside Harry with Rita was published. She was not aware of it, not at all in the weeks following, so occupied with the DA, teaching them all wandless and nonverbal magic, she hadn't had time to worry. It had been a distraction, one she found herself enjoying but weeks later, after Gryffindor's defeat at the hands of the Hufflepuff's team, it all caught up to her.

It had been Monday morning, a regular morning, the post had come, packages had been dropped and letters served, Atlas hadn't been expecting anything, and no one at the table had beside Hermione. The girl always received a Daily Prophet and today was no different in that regard, however, Atlas found herself with a letter and then another and then another, until a dozen owls surrounded her, large eyes expectant as if waiting for something, even those that were there for Harry. Until the entire table was covered in owls, some large some rather small, each with letters or little parcels addressed to either her or Harry.

At first, she was rather lost, face inquisitive as she petted each owl and gave them all some feed but then Hermione had pulled out a Quibbler and it was all made clear, there on the front cover in large red letters beneath a picture of herself and Harry read the words:

Harry Potter and Atlas Magianima speak out at last:

The truth about He Who Must Not Be Named
and the night we saw him return

"It's good, isn't it?" Luna asked, suddenly appearing before them out of the blue and seating herself beside Atlas. "It came out yesterday, I asked Dad to send a free copy. I expect all these," she motioned to the owls all vying for Atlas's attention, some even jumping atop others to get closer, "are letters from readers."

"That's what I thought," Hermione said eagerly, glancing at Atlas who become some sort of ledge for a handful of owls, "you two, d'you mind if we --?"

"Help yourself," Harry nodded, smiling amusedly.

"Sure, go ahead, Mi," Atlas nodded, leaning away when a screech owl got uncomfortably close to her face. "Please, little lady, not so close," she whispered and tried to rid herself of the owls clutching her uniform. She didn't want more holes in her jumper. Owl talons were no joke, not quite so strong as Kalo's but strong enough. 

"This one's from a bloke who thinks you're off your rocker," Ron said, directing it at Harry who only sighed. "Ah well..."

"This woman recommends you try a good course of Shock Spells at St. Mungo's," Hermione said a moment later, crumpling up a few more lengths of parchment with a very deep frown.

When Atlas finally freed herself of the many birds she reached for a few of her own, carefully pulling them open to read their contents, quite a few of them were non-believers, their letters laced with colourful words and creative suggestions that ended in a not so favourable position for Atlas but some believed her, even including gifts within their notes. One old lady had sent her quite a few pictures of her calico cat doing a number of very cute things, and another gifted her an oil painted picture of the countryside they lived in. It was very pretty.

"Oh, here's another one you've convinced, Atlas," Ron said after throwing a less than favourable letter over his shoulder, crumbled and ruined, "this girl says you've got her converted and she now thinks you're a real hero -- she's put in a photograph, too -- wow!"