The sun rose on a weary Atlas, his eyes heavy with the weight of a sleepless night. The vivid nightmares had held him captive, but in the midst of his exhaustion, a newfound determination blossomed within him. He needed to risk contacting Voldemort. He knew that the Diadem, Voldemort's Horcrux, was good for blackmailing Voldemort, but the problem he had until now was that he wasn’t sure that Quirrell was indeed Voldemort. The map didn’t give him the information he wanted, and Quirrell behaved so differently from the original story that it put him in a quandary. But after many sleepless hours, he had some kind of enlightenment. He could just assume that Quirrell was Voldemort and try to blackmail him, and if Quirrell went to the room of requirements, then he could be sure that his plan would work. If Quirrell had no connection to Voldemort, then it would just look like a weird prank. All he needed to do was hide the blackmail in a riddle that Voldemort would easily understand and that would lead him to check the diadem.
"Atlas, breakfast is ready!" echoed his father's cheerful voice from downstairs.
Atlas descended the stairs, his steps light with anticipation, only to be met with a delightful spread that could rival the grand feasts of Hogwarts itself.
"Wow, Mom, this looks incredible!" Atlas exclaimed, genuine awe in his voice.
"Your dad actually prepared half of it," his mom proudly revealed. "Since you left, he wanted to learn some dishes from the wizarding world, and I must say, he's become quite the culinary expert."
"Eat up before it gets cold," his dad chimed in, a mix of pride and bashfulness in his eyes.
As they savored the delicious breakfast, the atmosphere shifted when his parents broached a topic that turned the relaxed ambiance into one of flurry and excitement. They asked Atlas if he had prepared gifts for his friends, particularly Hermione.
Atlas was taken aback, realizing that it was customary to exchange presents with his friends. In his previous life, such traditions had faded away with the younger generation, and in this life, he had always received gifts from his parents without the need to reciprocate. In an instant, leisurely family time transformed into a spontaneous shopping expedition. Finding gifts for his friends proved relatively easy—they all received delectable sweets, except Neville, who received a Muggle book on plants, a recommendation from his father. His mother chimed in, praising the book's insightful exploration of herbology.
However, selecting a present for Hermione posed a greater challenge. Initially considering books, Atlas's father intervened, encouraging him to find something more special, something that would leave a lasting impression. Reluctantly, Atlas heeded his father's advice, noticing a tender smile between his parents as his mother delicately touched a necklace, undoubtedly a cherished gift from his father.
After scouring the shopping center for hours without reaching a unanimous decision, they returned home, opting to use the Floo Network to travel to Diagon Alley. Unlike Harry's mishaps, their journey went smoothly, and they arrived at the bustling magical marketplace without a hitch.
The streets bustled with the excitement of Christmas shopping as Atlas and his family found themselves in the midst of a lively crowd. The stores, usually quiet throughout the year, now beckoned with alluring holiday deals and special presents. Even Olivander's displayed a wand cleaning set that shimmered enticingly.
Flourish and Blotts tempted Atlas with their array of books, but his father firmly declared that books were off the list. Just as Atlas began to feel a pang of disappointment, they stumbled upon Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment, where a magnificent pensive sat on display. The pensive, a rare and costly artifact, allowed one to revisit memories. Atlas's mind raced with the possibilities—reliving his conversations with Ethan, Amy, Leona, or even Quirrell and unearthing the truth behind their identities. He could also use it to rewatch the movies in case he had forgotten something in the last eleven years. He attempted to sway his parents, suggesting that he and Hermione could delve into their shared memories, satisfying his father's requirement of being overly romantic. Alas, the steep price of a thousand galleons dashed his hopes of acquiring the pensive as a single gift.
When they left the store, Atlas saw a familiar blonde in the crowd, which could only belong to Lucius Malfoy. That in itself wouldn’t have been noteworthy for Atlas, as he thought that with Lucius' tendency to pamper his son, he would need to buy a few extra Christmas gifts that Draco ordered after he arrived home. What really caught his attention was that next to Lucius’ head, he saw a violet turban. As a turban wasn’t something common even in the wizarding world, he immediately knew who the turban belonged to. Just to be sure, he wanted to hurry after them to get a better picture of them and maybe even hear what they said, but after they went to Knockturn Alley, he couldn’t follow them anymore without looking suspicious, but he was now sure that they were indeed Quirrell and Lucius. His parents were running after him and asked him why he was running away, but he just brushed it off and said he thought he had seen someone he knew, but it turned out he was wrong.
They then returned to their planless search for a present. However, in the midst of their search, his mother had an idea. She suggested purchasing a medallion with a moving picture of them—a concept that Atlas initially dismissed as cringe-worthy. Yet, after hours of fruitless browsing and his father's persistent ban on books, they settled on a simple yet beautiful silver medallion. When the witch selling the medallion inquired about an engraving, Atlas boldly requested a bowtruckle, causing his parents to be confused, but he said she would understand it, which was enough as an answer to his parents. If he had to embrace the cringe, he was determined to do it all the way.
Currently empty, the medallion held the promise of capturing cherished memories. His parents reassured him that they had a camera he could use to take a picture, completing the gift. Satisfied with their choice, they made their way to the owl station to send their carefully selected presents on their way.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
After an exhilarating yet tiring day and a much-needed night of peaceful sleep, Atlas awoke to a cozy morning. As he descended the stairs, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sight of presents neatly arranged beneath the twinkling Christmas tree greeted him. His father, already immersed in his newspaper, sat at the dining table, savoring a moment of tranquility.
Rather than rushing towards the presents with the impatience of a typical child his age, Atlas decided to join his father. They shared a companionable silence, relishing the anticipation of the whole family coming together to unveil their gifts, just as they had done for years. Before long, his mother descended the staircase, radiating renewed energy after her refreshing shower. The time had come to unravel the mystery of the festively wrapped packages.
To Atlas's surprise, the pile of presents beneath the tree seemed larger than ever, and many of them bore his name. As he eagerly unwrapped his first gift, a special edition of the books he had seen at Flourish and Blotts, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of frustration towards his father. His father probably didn’t have anything against books as a present but didn’t want him to buy the same books twice. Yet he couldn't deny the feeling of mild annoyance, realizing he had been nudged into selecting the cringiest gift the wizarding world had to offer just because his father didn’t want to let him buy the same present for his girlfriend as he had bought for him.
Amidst the unwrapping, he discovered another unexpected surprise—a camera. His parents hadn't misled him when they mentioned having a camera at home, but he hadn't anticipated it being presented to him as a gift. It was a Polaroit Landcamera 430, enchanted by his mother herself to capture moving pictures. The camera held the promise of preserving magical moments in a truly enchanting way.
As the gift exchange continued, packages arrived from his friends. Neville had sent a delightful assortment of chocolate frogs, while Leona had thoughtfully sent a package of original Swiss chocolates. Ethan and Amy's contribution arrived in the form of scrumptious cookies, while Seamus and Dean showered him with generous packages of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.
Notably absent were Harry and Ron's gifts, but Atlas didn't dwell on them. Harry, in his peculiar way, clung to the notion that Dudley was the sole recipient of Christmas presents. Besides, his relationship with Ron had yet to evolve into a friendship. However, Ron's brothers surprised him with a unique present—a box containing an enchanted puppet theater. To his amusement and slight embarrassment, the puppets within reenacted the scene where numerous Slytherins confessed their love for Snape. Swiftly closing the box to shield his parents from the unexpected hilarity, Atlas couldn't help but appreciate the mischievous humor of the Weasley brothers.
Fortunately, Atlas's parents were blissfully engrossed in their own presents. It had become a tradition for them to exchange gifts solely for the purpose of unwrapping something amusing. Most often, these gifts took the form of comical Christmas attire. Vivid memories flooded Atlas's mind of his father parading outside, much to the neighbor's astonishment, wearing reindeer shoes, a brown and white sweater adorned with a red bauble at its center, and a hat crowned with antlers.
As entertaining as his father's ensemble was, it couldn't quite compare to the sheer embarrassment induced by his mother's peculiar Christmas elf costume. At that moment, Atlas silently rejoiced in his exemption from their whimsical costume warfare. This year, however, the atmosphere was decidedly more laid-back. His father had donned a jolly Christmas tree costume, complete with twinkling lights and vibrant ornaments, while his mother had embraced the charm of a cheerful snowman, her outfit resembling a fluffy, snow-covered wonder.
With laughter echoing through the house, the scene unfolded like a delightful comedy sketch. Atlas watched with amusement as his parents merrily displayed their festive attires. Sometimes he felt like being an only child was like living together with a couple as the third wheel.
As only two packages remained, Atlas pondered about the sender of the final one. He was certain that one was from Hermione, but the sender of the other package eluded his guessing game. Both parcels resembled books, causing Atlas to grumble inwardly about Hermione's seemingly lacking parents, who intervened in her gift choices and steered her away from literary offerings.
With delicate care, Atlas peeled away the meticulously wrapped paper, revealing a beautifully crafted, leather-bound journal. It exuded a certain charm, and upon closer inspection, he discovered it to be a photo album. A letter accompanied the gift, expressing Hermione's heartfelt desire to fill the entire journal with the cherished moments they shared. While Atlas couldn't deny the cringiness of the gesture, he realized that his own gift might not be as terrible in comparison.
Curiosity piqued, he turned his attention to the last package. It too bore the mark of fine leather binding. The cover showcased a majestic tree, adorned with bowtruckles gracefully maneuvering from branch to branch. It was undoubtedly a magical book, and the intricate movement of the bowtruckles hinted at its luxurious craftsmanship. As Atlas perused the accompanying letter, his suspicions were confirmed—this precious gift came from none other than Professor McGonagall herself. The letter conveyed warm Christmas wishes and congratulations for his remarkable progress in transfiguration, noting his distinction as the youngest recorded animagus in magical Britain and the fifth youngest in the entire world.
Atlas found himself somewhat indifferent to the records he had set, knowing that his reincarnation had granted him an advantage akin to cheating. Nonetheless, there was a sense of satisfaction in witnessing the usually stern Professor McGonagall express pride in his accomplishments. Her gift was also quite thoughtful, even though it should have been quite expensive and far too much as a mere gift to a normal student.
A flicker of melancholy danced within him as he realized that their extra lessons had come to an end. Besides Professor McGonagall's schedule growing busier, if he wanted to go through with his plan to blackmail Voldemort and shortly after kill the hero, he wouldn’t have a lot of time either, as he should prepare himself for the final fight and with knowledge he could use to his advantage in other universes. Even without that, his time would have been limited, as he knew that the professors would increase their workload as the exams came near. He already feared that he should bring his bed to the library if he wanted to keep up with Snape’s extra homework.
The thought reminded him of something important. Not important for his mission, but for him personally. He needed to talk with his mother about Snape. With all the drama regarding Hermione, he had almost forgotten that his mother’s letter almost doubled his workload in potions and made him a target for Snape's malice.