Chapter 118: Divination Teacher
The next morning, the storm had passed.
But the sky was still heavy with clouds.
At breakfast, Jon received his timetable for the new term. It was much fuller than last term’s—several new subjects had been added. Nearby, a group of fifth- and sixth-year Hufflepuffs were whispering about what spells they might use to age themselves up and sneak into the Triwizard Tournament.
Jon wasn’t interested. To be precise, he wasn’t interested in the “Triwizard Tournament” at all.
Even if someone held a wand to his head, he wouldn’t risk his life against dragons, merpeople, or sphinxes!
All that for a prize of 1,000 Galleons?
He’d sooner report Black again!
Besides, the winner was already set in stone—Harry Potter, of course...
Glancing at his timetable, Jon saw only one class that morning: Divination, taken jointly with Gryffindor.
“So soon I have to put up with that old fraud, Trelawney?” Jon sighed, pulling out his copy of Unfogging the Future.
Divination was held at the top of the North Tower, about a ten-minute walk from the Great Hall. After breakfast, he joined several third-year Hufflepuffs and hurried toward the tower.
...
They climbed staircase after staircase in the North Tower until finally they reached a silver ladder that led them through a trapdoor in the ceiling.
The Divination classroom lay beyond—a strange place that looked more like a tearoom, filled with small round tables set with teacups and teapots.
Jon chose a table and sat down. Zacharias Smith took the seat across from him.
“Hello.” Not long after they had settled, an airy, ethereal voice drifted from behind them, making both boys jump.
A peculiar-looking witch emerged from behind a curtain. She was incredibly thin, her eyes were hugely magnified by a pair of enormous spectacles. A gauzy scarf hung loosely around her long neck, which was laden with necklaces and beads. Her hands glittered with rings and bracelets.
“Sit, my children, sit,” she said in a mysterious tone. “Sybill Trelawney—your Divination teacher.”
“Divination—the mysterious and complex subject you are about to study!” Professor Trelawney’s sharp, high-pitched voice filled the classroom. “I warn you in advance: if you lack true talent, what I can teach you in this art will be pitifully little...”
Many Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students seemed drawn in by her dramatic opening.
Jon simply lowered his head and stifled a yawn.
Truth be told, he had no interest in such mystical nonsense. If Divination weren’t a mandatory elective at Hogwarts, he would never have chosen it. And besides, he already knew the major events of the next few years—he hardly needed tea leaves to tell him the future...
His mind wandered back to last night’s conversation in Dumbledore’s office.
...
“This year we’ll cover the basic forms of Divination. In the first term, we’ll focus on tea-leaf reading. Next term, we’ll move on to palmistry.”
Professor Trelawney launched into one of her typical performances.
Her first target of the day was Ginny Weasley.
She lifted Ginny’s teacup and cried dramatically, “Wait—I see something... A falcon! You once had a deadly enemy...”
Poor Ginny went pale, rising to her feet and nodding shakily.
Jon noticed Trelawney then moved on to ramble through more solemn “readings,” leaving several Gryffindor girls wide-eyed and hanging on her every word.
Soon, she had the students pair off to interpret one another’s tea leaves.
Jon and Zacharias were grouped together, spouting nonsense as they worked.
Flipping to pages five and six of the textbook, Zacharias frowned in confusion, clearly not having listened to a word of the lecture.
“The leaves form an arrow...” he muttered. “Arrows symbolize direction. Could it mean you’ll be chosen as a Triwizard Champion?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jon said lazily. “I’m still four years away from turning seventeen.”
“And... a castle... That symbolizes power... Could it mean you’ll become Headmaster of Hogwarts someday?”
“Minister for Magic seems more realistic...”
“And... a snake... What does a snake mean... what does it mean...”
Zacharias flipped back and forth through the book but couldn’t find the answer.
Then a wicked grin spread across his face. “I know! You’re going to marry a Slytherin!”
“Don’t talk nonsense...” Jon felt his face heat slightly.
“What troubles you, child?” Trelawney, drawn by their chatter, drifted over.
...
“Perhaps you should try your hand at a prophecy—about the future!” After glancing at Jon’s parchment, Trelawney gave him an approving nod. “Come, child. I sense you may have potential in Divination.”
Jon reluctantly stood, glanced into his teacup, and blurted, “I see... the champion’s cup... Hogwarts will win the Triwizard Tournament!”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t be so certain in such matters!” Trelawney’s voice carried a note of disappointment. “The cup you saw could be the champion’s, yes... but it might just as well be for second place—or even third. They all have cups!”
So in other words, I’m supposed to predict that Hogwarts’ champion will at least take third place?
That’s absurd... Jon scoffed inwardly.
“Let’s try again, child. What else do you see?”
Jon glanced back at his teacup, then smirked. “I see... that a teacher will be expelled from Hogwarts a little over a year from now.”
“Oh?” Trelawney’s interest sharpened. “Who is it? Hagrid? Moody?”
“Um...” Jon thought for a moment, then decided to answer honestly. “It looks a bit like you, Professor Trelawney.”
“What?” Sybill Trelawney’s face instantly darkened. “I take back everything I just said, Hart... You have not a shred of prophetic gift!”
“I swear on my great-grandmother’s name, you will never predict a single thing correctly!” she cried, her voice rising in fury.
“Uh...” Jon realized he had probably offended his Divination teacher beyond repair.
Then, a sudden idea struck him. “Professor, I did see one more thing...”
“Speak!”
“I saw... that I’m going to fail my Divination final exam!”
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