A dark path (on break) - Harry Potter x Male OC

5

Atlas PoV

Christmas was drawing closer. This was apparent with the snow piling on top of the trees and the students starting to pick up their bags.

Atlas did not like the idea of going back to the orphanage. So instead he immersed himself in reading.

Learning all about dark magic, ancient magic, and jinxes was becoming what he did most of the time.

He had to remind himself to do his homework.

Atlas pulled out the unfinished homework he had. Some from every class. He sat down and thought about his answers.

He wrote down his first answer on his transfiguration homework. It was easy.

What wasn't easy was the care of magical creatures. Atlas had to admit that he wasn't paying attention in that class.

Atlas stared blankly at the piece of parchment.

The answer just wasn't coming to him.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

On the 25th of December 1993, Harry Potter got a brand new firebolt from an unknown person. Atlas wasn't jealous, he never understood the hype around quidditch anyway. But he found himself compelled to look at the shining firebolt with Potter- no Harry.

He got up and walked to them.

"Do you have any idea who might've sent that?" He asked. Harry shook his head and examined the firebolt once again.

"No... It doesn't have a note with it," Harry said.

"I think you should hand it over to McGonagall, it could be jinxed," Hermione suggested.

Atlas looked closer at the firebolt. His book had said something about 'identifying jinxed objects' but for some reason, he couldn't remember how right now. Atlas internally cursed himself as the three friends continued talking.

"You agree with me Atlas, right?" Atlas was forcefully pushed out of his mind by Ron.

"Uh. Can you repeat that?"

"That the firebolt isn't cursed and that Harry should be able to keep it," Ron repeated.

Atlas hesitated before responding, "Well I can't be sure. I think it may be best if we check it."

Atlas returned to the common room. He was used to not having gifts, but to his surprise, a gift lay under the Christmas tree. Atlas felt something stir inside him as he picked up the note on top of it.

Dear: Atlas Black

I wanted you to have this.

"Who is that from?" Ron asked.

"It doesn't say," Atlas replied, but he had a vague idea of who it was from. He wished he was wrong.

Carefully, he unwrapped the present.

Inside it was a picture book. He opened it on the first page and was welcomed by '1971-1980' written in black ink.

Atlas gulped. A heavyweight weighed at the pit of his stomach. He'd been born in 1980, he'd also been abandoned in 1980.

Atlas flipped the page. He was greeted by a picture of four fifteen-year-olds. The boys inside moved and seemed delightfully blissful. The one that caught his eye had long curly hair and a 'rock n roll' look about him.

Sirius Black, his father.

He threw the book on the ground. It landed with a thud and a folded-up piece of parchment fell out. Atlas ignored it. Hot tears trickled at the edge of his eyes. He bawled his fists.

"Fuck," he cursed through gritted teeth.

Harry picked up the piece of parchment and approached him carefully.

"Atlas?" Harry tried.

Atlas spun around, "WHAT?!"

It had come out louder than he intended, but he didn't care. It conveyed that he was angry. Angry at his father, angry at whoever sent him that present, and angry at anyone who tried to cheer him up in any way.

Harry gulped then handed him the parchment, "I think you should have this?"

Atlas read over the piece of parchment.

Dear Atlas Black.

I wish I could've spent more time with you. Your mother passed away and I tried to take care of you, but I couldn't. I'll tell the orphanage to give this to you when you are eleven. By now you should know about Hogwarts.

There, you can meet Lily and James' son Harry. He's a couple of months younger than you.

I hope to meet you soon. You can contact Lily and James potter if you ever want to meet me. If you don't, I understand that too.

Your father, Sirius Black.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Later that day, Atlas was in the dorms, reading the piece of parchment for the tenth time. He didn't understand. Why would a killer like Sirius Black leave his son (whom he abandoned in an orphanage) a letter saying he wished to meet him? But also consider his wants.

Someone knocked on the door and Hermione came in.

Atlas sat up straight "Hi Hermione,"

"Hey," Hermione smiled softly and sat beside him.

"Could I read that?" Hermione pointed at the parchment. Atlas reluctantly nodded and handed over the paper.

"It doesn't make any sense," Atlas muttered.

As Hermione read, her expression softened. She put a soft hand on his shoulder when she was done.

"Oh, Atlas. I understand if you feel angry, I would be too." Hermione said.

Some part of Atlas wanted to yell at her, tell her she could never understand. But he didn't, instead, he just shook his head.

"I'm not angry, I'm confused." Atlas breathed in and continued. "It just doesn't make any sense! Why would a serial killer leave his son a note saying that he's 'sorry' and 'wants to meet him again'?!"

Hermione was quiet before saying, "I'm not sure."