CH60 - Atlas

On an early June morning, the sun shone high in the sky, illuminating the ground below as far as the eye could see. It was a glorious day, the warmest of the year so far. And yet, not a single soul could be seen on the Hogwarts grounds. There was no one by the Black Lake, by Hagrid's hut, or even in the central courtyard. In fact, all the regular hotspots of student activity were devoid of movement.

Peculiarly, just about the entirety of the population of Hogwarts was crammed into the Great Hall. That was not odd in and of itself, but the behaviour that was being displayed within most certainly was.

The teachers were still acting as they always had, engaged in quiet conversation at the high table as they ate their breakfast in preparation for a long day. The students, however, seemed to have been replaced with mute clones of themselves. Oh, the occasional frantic, hushed exchange would occur now and again, but it ended as soon as it began. The sound that filled the hall was not of laughs but instead of pages desperately being flipped. Much of the feast was still untouched, plates only being filled with tiny morsels to snack on hastily.

Exam season was here, and even a blind man could see it.

Near the end of the Hufflepuff table closest to the teachers' side, one student seemed to be wholly unaffected by the depressive, dampening atmosphere the school had devolved into. His plate was filled to the brim, getting the first and best pick of all the food since nobody else seemed interested in touching it. Unlike the majority of the occupants of the hall, he had no books on his person, nor did he have any other study aids opened up in front of him. He was only carrying his wand, safely stowed in his robes, ready to be used at a moment's notice.

Edmund repeatedly stretched and rolled his neck, his yawns revealing how recently he had woken up. Mentally thanking the hodag ritual yet again, he glanced around to see if he could catch anyone's eyes.

'Nope,' he sighed.

Edmund was in no way immune to stress. Even with occlumency, a pressure was always niggling away at the back of his mind: pushing him, motivating him. But after everything he had been through the week before, exam anxiety seemed almost irrelevant in comparison. Edmund was confident in his abilities, and he had faith in himself. That was all that mattered to him.

'It's weird how worried Hermione gets about her grades, in a way. How can she face a cerberus and a basilisk, then turn around and freak out about the year that self-stirring cauldrons were invented?' Edmund thought. 'Although, it's not like fear is always rational. Who am I to judge? It could be a coping mechanism to distract herself from the crazy stuff she gets into regularly. Besides, if she does poorly, the shite she would get from the purebloods about it would probably be gruesome. Not to mention how difficult it already is for "mudbloods" to gain employment.'

He shrugged, shaking off his ponderings.

The one good thing about studying for Hogwarts exams was that there was no significant amount of guesswork involved. Even when it came to the practicals, everyone basically knew what would be expected of them. The spells asked to be demonstrated never changed, for there was no need to do so. The magic they had to perform encompassed the teachings of the entire year, so there was no real way to cheat it. These general rules, of course, excluded DADA, which remained the most unpredictable course year after year.

...And that was the one exam the first years had left on their docket.

Monday had started with a bang, with the Charms examination first thing in the morning and the Transfiguration one in the afternoon.

Professor Flitwick had likely believed that he would be unsurprised by Edmund's execution of the task given to him. The short professor had thus been flabbergasted by the sight of two pineapples doing an uncannily sensual tango together, their fronds acting as their two arms. Edmund had left the spluttering and chuckling half-goblin's room with a wink, inciting even more laughter behind him.

McGonagall demanded much more seriousness from him, and for once, Edmund complied, knowing the woman was not to be trifled with in such a setting. After a perfect mouse-to-snuffbox transformation that had earned him a small smile, he had quickly returned to his room.

Tuesday was simpler but much more daunting for many, with an Astronomy exam at midnight and a Potions practical in the morning.

Professor Sinistra was kind and had made the star chart they had to fill out exceptionally straightforward, save for a single trick question that Edmund had easily discerned. Snape was the exact opposite as he breathed down everyone's necks as they were asked to brew a potion from memory. Ironically, his actions led to many forgetting the steps to make the Forgetfulness Potion that had been requested of them.

Wednesday was likely the most manageable day of them all, consisting of Herbology after breakfast and History of Magic after lunch.

Professor Sprout's requests had been twofold. First, they had to demonstrate an ability to suppress wayward plants in the form of Lumos Solem against a devil's snare. Next, they were asked to display the correct way to gather clippings from various plants with the severing charm. Whereas Herbology was entirely hands-on, History of Magic required rote memorization of names and important dates. However, luckily for Edmund, the sphinx ritual had made the job utterly effortless for him. An exam meant to take an hour had taken him only ten minutes, the rest of which he spent idling about.

That led to this day. It was Thursday, the day of the last exam of the year. No one quite knew what Professor Lupin would ask of them, but if Edmund remembered the obstacle course the third-years would be asked to complete, he would guess it would be something exciting.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Cecilia staring at him.

"What's up?" he asked quizzically.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "I should be asking you that. You seem... different recently."

"Different, how?" he questioned.

"I'm not sure," she responded slowly. "You look happier. Freer. Like the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders, if that makes any sense."

Edmund looked at her from the corner of his eyes. Her perceptiveness would never cease to amaze him. She was right, of course. With the issue of Moros being resolved and the Chamber of Secrets found and explored, his worries had all but dissipated. The last thing on his checklist had been ticked off this morning when he had seen Lupin ingest the last dose of the Wolfsbane under the cover of his invisibility cloak.

Cecilia smirked at his reaction to her words before turning serious once more. "You don't have to share anything with me. I would never force you to do that. But secrets can make you start to feel claustrophobic inside your mind sometimes. Make sure there's someone you can trust, someone you can talk to."

"Sorry," Edmund smiled sadly.

"I trust you, Edmund," Cecilia replied, waving off his apology. "It scares me sometimes just how much I do after only such a short time."

"I won't betray that trust," he vowed, palming the necklace around his throat that she had gifted to him at Christmas.

"I know," she said confidently.

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- (Scene Break) -

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Sitting in the Room of Requirement after the exam, Edmund placed the egg he had discovered on a soft pillow in front of him.

"What are you?" he mused aloud, examining it from every angle he could.

Just as the previous ten times he had done it, he discovered nothing new. Perfectly ovular and smooth, the shell gave him no clues about what sort of creature might reside within.

Hesitating for a second, he placed his bare fingers upon it once again. Instantly, it seemed to press back against him from inside, the only sign of life he had discovered from it thus far.

"Why? Why me?" Edmund wondered. "Your father tried to communicate with you for years. He gave you every kind of nourishment he could think of. What is so special about me?"

Holding his palm flat against the white surface, he breathed in and out deeply. Wild magic ebbed into him simultaneously, and the egg responded even more strongly than before. "Could it be that simple?"

Holding the egg with both his hands, Edmund channelled his magic into it. The small space was like an endless vacuum, giving almost no response to his actions. And yet, he could feel a slight sense of growth. Slow but steady.

Perhaps the amount of pure magical energy it was absorbing could be attributed to the egg being deprived for so long, or maybe it was because the being within was fated to be incredibly powerful. If Edmund had to guess, it would be a combination of the two.

Fully depleted, he drew his arms back. "That easy, huh? Alright then. Let's see you got."