As Neville left the compartment, Hermione's eyes sparkled with anticipation, her curiosity bubbling over. Atlas couldn't help but savor the moment, tempted to tease her a little longer. However, he knew that the time had come to reveal his animagus form. With a single thought, he transformed into a palm-sized bowtruckle, causing Hermione's eyes to widen.
"Oh, how cute!" exclaimed Hermione, practically leaning over the bench to get a better look at him. The term "cute" wasn't exactly what Atlas had expected, considering Hermione's previous fantasies of him turning into a plushy animal or a lovable dog. But her reaction was genuine and filled with affection, as she carefully reached out to stroke his leafy hair.
The sensation was peculiar, and Atlas couldn't help but feel vulnerable in his miniature form. Despite his trust in Hermione, the realization that he was now so fragile made him slightly uneasy. He couldn't shake the thought that one wrong move could easily snap him in two, like a mere twig.
Nonetheless, he basked in Hermione's gentle touch, appreciating her sincere curiosity. Hermione studied his form from leaf to root, and she even realized that the left finger on his right claw looked like a pointy version of his wand.
Before indulging in playful antics, Atlas transformed back into his human form to have a conversation with Hermione. He recounted the entire process of his animagus transformation, describing the sensations and experiences of being a bowtruckle.
Magical beast transformations were exceedingly rare, and Hermione estimated that only one in fifty animagi possessed such a form. Atlas realized that he would be a true rarity among the soon-to-be nine registered animagi in Britain. The last known person capable of transforming into a magical beast passed away nearly 150 years ago. He was rumored to have had the ability to turn into a majestic hippogriff.
Legend had it that this individual had accidentally tamed a wild hippogriff baby during childhood, forging an unbreakable bond that endured throughout their lifetime. The desire to fly alongside his magnificent friend had propelled him to become an animagus. Atlas couldn't help but marvel at the tale, realizing how extraordinary it was to have such a unique connection with a mythical creature, which in turn reignited the question of why his form was a bowtruckle, as his bond to the little creatures was basically non-existent.
As they contemplated the origins of his animagus form, an announcement rang through the train, signaling their impending arrival at King's Cross train station. With a mixture of excitement and a touch of sadness, they shared one last tender kiss before preparing to disembark from the compartment together.
Relief washed over Atlas as Hermione revealed that her parents wouldn't be waiting at platform nine and three-quarters. Non-magical individuals like her parents could only access the platform if accompanied by a wizard due to the protective charms in place. Imagining the potential chaos of introducing his and Hermione's parents before he even had a chance to inform his own about their relationship sent shivers down his spine.
Upon sharing this concern with Hermione, he hoped for a comforting response. However, her reply lacked any trace of sympathy. Instead, she candidly pointed out that he should have mustered the courage to inform his parents sooner.
As the train pulled into the platform, Atlas's heart swelled with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. He knew his parents would be waiting for him. As the mass of students disembarked, he quickly spotted his mother in the crowd. She rushed toward him, pulling him out of the throng and enveloping him in a warm, tight embrace.
Atlas could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as his mother showered his face with affectionate kisses. He wished he could disappear, finding solace in the notion of a magical hole that would whisk him away from the scene. But to his relief, he noticed other students nearby experiencing similar embarrassments with their own families.
Finally released from his mother's embrace, his father stepped forward. In a brief but heartfelt hug, his father lifted him off his feet and playfully rubbed his black beard against Atlas's cheek. Despite his initial annoyance, a realization washed over him—the depth of his parents' affection. He had missed them more than he realized, and it was only during his time at Hogwarts that he truly came to appreciate their love.
Something had shifted within him—a barrier that had unknowingly separated him from fully accepting his new parents' affection. It was as if his interactions with his new friends at Hogwarts had shattered the illusion that others were merely characters in the hero’s story. The awareness that everyone in this universe was real had allowed him to open his heart fully to his parents.
The embarrassing displays of affection, once a source of discomfort, now became a testament to the love that bound them together. It made him feel bad when he realized that he had once only seen and treated them as his birth givers to a new world where he had to accomplish a mission.
As they cruised along the road in his father's blue Austin 1800, the familiar hum of the engine providing a soothing backdrop, his mother's curiosity got the best of her. She couldn't contain her excitement and bombarded him with questions about his time at Hogwarts. Did he make friends? Which lessons did he enjoy the most? Had anything interesting happened?
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Atlas grinned, his eyes darting between his parents, but he tactfully skirted around the topic of his newfound friends. It wasn't because he lacked companionship; rather, he believed that discussing such matters in the confines of a moving vehicle might have unintended consequences. After all, Hermione’s father had once broken his leg when he received the surprising news that his daughter had a boyfriend. Atlas didn't want to put his father's driving skills to the ultimate test by dropping the bombshell that he now had a girlfriend.
Once they arrived home, the atmosphere brimming with warmth and holiday cheer, the trio set to work on their beloved Christmas tradition: decorating the tree. As they carefully placed ornaments and untangled strands of twinkling lights, his father shared a tender sentiment. He revealed that they had deliberately waited for Atlas's return to carry out this cherished task, for they had always done it together as a family. Breaking this tradition was out of the question.
As they nestled together on the cozy sofa, their eyes dancing with the enchantment of the twinkling Christmas tree, Atlas mustered the courage to broach a subject that had made his heart race. Despite never expecting to feel nervous in front of his parents, reality had proven him wrong.
Taking a deep breath, he spoke with a hint of apprehension in his voice, "Mom... Dad, do you remember when I asked if a friend could come over next week?" His words hung in the air, anticipation filling the room.
His mother, perceptive as ever, sensed the uneasiness in his tone. With a warm smile, she replied, "Of course we remember, dear. We were thrilled when you asked. But you never mentioned who this friend is. Is it Neville, or have you been keeping a few secrets from us?"
Atlas knew he couldn't back down now. Summoning his courage, he continued, his cheeks tinged with a rosy hue, "No, it's not Neville. It's Hermione Granger. I mentioned her in one of my letters and told you that we've been studying together."
A spark of understanding ignited in his father's eyes as he chimed in with a playful grin, "Ah, I see. You like her, and you don't want us to embarrass you. Well, don't worry, son. We'll be on our best behavior. Tell us more about her!"
His mother gently interjected, a mix of curiosity and genuine interest evident in her voice, "Let him finish, Edward."
Atlas felt the weight of his father's acceptance, the genuine support washing over him, emboldening him to share his truth. With a deep breath, he summoned the courage to utter the words that had caused his cheeks to flush, "Well, yes, I do like her... in fact, she's not just a friend coming over. She's my girlfriend."
His face reached new levels of crimson, as if he were auditioning for the role of a tomato in a school play.
His mother was momentarily stunned, her eyes widening in surprise. Meanwhile, his father sprang up from the sofa, performing an impromptu victory dance to celebrate his son's newfound romantic connection.
"Oh, dear, that's absolutely wonderful!" his mother finally exclaimed, a sparkle returning to her eyes. "Tell us all about her."
But Atlas couldn't help but envision his father's dancing antics when Hermione was actually present. "If Dad does that when she's here, I'll pretend I'm adopted," he joked, trying to temper his father's enthusiasm.
His father, though settling down a bit, still wore a joyous expression that seemed to say he would gladly invite a burglar to tea after generously handing over his wallet. It was a rare sight to witness his father so unabashedly expressive, and it warmed Atlas' heart to see his dad so overjoyed for him—perhaps the first time he had ever witnessed such elation.
Meanwhile, his mother's curiosity grew even stronger as she eagerly awaited the details. Atlas began recounting the story of how he first met Hermione while driving the boat to Hogwarts, the shared moments of working on their potion homework, and the unforgettable Halloween night when Hermione surprised him with a kiss on the dance floor.
In the midst of his storytelling, Atlas revealed that aside from Hermione's upcoming visit the following week, he had also been invited to her family's home after Christmas.
His father gladly offered his help, almost jumping at the chance. However, his mother smiled and chimed in, "I'll also go with you. Meeting Hermione's parents would be amazing. You mentioned that they are muggles, right?"
Atlas couldn't help but grin at his parents' enthusiasm, their genuine excitement matching his own. In that moment, he felt incredibly fortunate to have such supportive and loving parents who were not only accepting of his relationship but eager to be a part of his journey.
In the quiet of the night, as Atlas lay awake in his bed, he couldn't help but reflect on the immense love and warmth that enveloped him within his family's embrace. That his family loved him dearly was a sensation he had multiple times that day, but after the excitement was over and he lay in bed trying to sleep, the thought he tried to suppress almost at all times surfaced: the weight of his mission and the potential consequences it held.
The realization gnawed at his mind as he grappled with the knowledge that if he killed the hero, the universe would be destroyed too. And that could very well be before he could return home again, as he was already really close to uncovering the hero’s identity. He shouldn’t waste too much time, as the hero was growing every day. Would he really be able to find a way to save his family and Hermione before that? Should he risk the hero growing to perhaps an unbeatable level to save his loved ones?
Unable to find solace in sleep, Atlas finally succumbed to exhaustion and drifted into an unsettling slumber. Nightmares invaded his subconscious as vivid images plagued his mind. He witnessed a terrifying scene where Fluffy, the three-headed dog, savagely attacked those he held dear. The gruesome sight unfolded, causing his heart to race and his body to tremble.
A nightmare plagued his sleep as he saw how Fluffy bit off Ethan’s head, ripped Amy in two, and clawed at Leona’s dead body after he released the dog on them to kill the hero. In that bloody scene, he saw how the castle walls began to crack, and the whole castle collapsed on them.
In the aftermath, he found himself kneeling amidst the debris, tears streaming down his face as he saw Hermione’s dead body with her face frozen in an expression of pain.
When he looked down on his own knees, he saw that he was kneeling on the lifeless forms of his parents, their eyes vacant and lifeless. The weight of grief and guilt bore down on him, overwhelming his senses.
In the midst of his anguish, Dumbledore materialized before him, accusing him of being the harbinger of destruction. The accusation pierced his soul, intensifying his inner turmoil. A blinding green light erupted from Dumbledore's wand, engulfing him in a wave of fear and despair.
With a start, Atlas awoke from his haunting nightmare, drenched in a cold sweat. The remnants of the chilling imagery clung to his mind, haunting his every thought. Sleep eluded him for the remainder of the night, as he was unwilling to confront the darkness that awaited him behind closed eyes.