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Her voice wasn’t exactly quiet—indeed, Harry thought Professor Trelawney must have heard Hermione’s words.
Yet, Professor Trelawney didn’t reprimand Hermione. Instead, she continued in her dreamy, misty manner, saying, “Gazing into the crystal ball is a particularly delicate art. You are peering into this unfathomable orb for the first ti, and I don’t expect any of you to see anything yet. We must begin by practicing the relaxation of the conscious mind and external eyes, so as to clear the inner eye and superconscious. If we’re fortunate, so of you may see sothing before the class ends.”
See sothing?
Harry pondered for a mont, his thoughts drifting to Sirius Black.
Where is Sirius… Where is Sirius…
He mulled it over for a while before opening his eyes again.
The crystal ball’s surface shimred, but…
Hm?
He saw a large black dog, and it was… well, it seed to be entwined by a venomous snake, looking as though it was struggling to breathe.
Professor Trelawney noticed Harry, who was staring intently at the crystal ball with a furrowed brow.
“Did you see sothing?” she asked, leaning closer.
“I saw a burn mark on the table,” Ron interjected, pointing at the desk. “Soone must’ve knocked over a candle.”
“No, I was asking Mr. Potter, dear,” Professor Trelawney said, giving Ron an apologetic look. “So, Mr. Potter—”
“I saw a large black dog,” Harry said, frowning. “It was being constricted by a venomous snake… It looked like it was almost suffocating.”
“That is not a good on,” Professor Trelawney said, coughing twice.
“What a waste of ti,” Hermione muttered under her breath. “I’m starting to regret taking this class. If I could go back, I’d have chosen sothing else.”
“My dear…” Professor Trelawney gasped, looking at Harry. “It’s clearer now than ever before… My dear, that black dog, that snake… The Grim…”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Hermione exclaid loudly. “Not that ridiculous Grim again!”
Professor Trelawney raised her enormous eyes, glaring at Hermione’s face.
“I regret to say, my dear, that from the mont you arrived in this class, it’s been evident you lack the qualities required for the noble art of Divination.”
Her dark eyes glead in the candlelight.
“Indeed, I can’t recall ever encountering a student with such a mundane mind—”
She seed to have forgotten that just a few days ago, she had made a similar remark about another student, who had stord out of the Divination classroom in a rage.
Yes, that student was Cassandra Malfoy.
A brief silence fell over the classroom.
Hermione felt utterly humiliated. For the first ti in her life, soone had called her inadequate in academics.
“Fine! Very well!” Hermione said suddenly, standing up abruptly and shoving Unfogging the Future into her bag.
“Very well!” she repeated, slinging her bag over her shoulder, nearly knocking Ron off his chair.
“I give up! I’m leaving! I’m done with this class!”
The crystal ball rolled off her desk, and in her fury, Hermione kicked it hard.
The orb flew across the room, striking the door with a dull thud.
The class stared at Hermione in shock. No one expected the model student to act so boldly, kicking a teaching tool out of the classroom right in front of a professor.
Hermione stord out, as if the room itself were cursed with so ominous presence.
“I rember now!” Lavender suddenly said. “Professor, you predicted that soone would leave us forever before Christmas. Does this an… the prophecy has co true? Hermione’s left us!”
“Shut it, Brown!” Ron snapped, turning to her impatiently. “Can you say sothing a bit less grim for once?”
Lavender pouted, clearly not expecting Ron’s sharp retort.
“Yes, my dear, as you say,” Professor Trelawney said. “I did indeed foresee Miss Granger’s departure. Yet, one always hopes to misread the signs of the future. I, too, am saddened that this has co to pass.”
After saying this, Professor Trelawney glanced at Ron with a knowing smile.
She turned back to Harry and said, “My dear, you truly have… the Grim. A very serious Grim.”
“Er, Professor,” Harry asked, frowning, “what exactly did I see in the crystal ball? Why was there a black dog being strangled by a snake? What does it an?”
“Perhaps—” Professor Trelawney said mysteriously, waving her arms, “you should know that so are born with the Sight. And you, my dear, seem to have that potential, for you can see through the mists to the essence of things. But that alone isn’t enough… The black dog and the snake you saw may rely be symbols.”
Symbols?
Harry recalled that Sirius Black’s Animagus form was a large black dog, as Peter Pettigrew had once ntioned.
Let’s see… His father, Jas Potter, was a stag Animagus, Peter Pettigrew was a rat—but what was Professor Lupin’s Animagus form?
But…
If the black dog symbolized his godfather, then who was the snake?
Harry’s thoughts imdiately turned to Snape, who harbored a deep grudge against his father’s group.
Could it be… Sirius had already been captured by Snape?
But that didn’t make sense. If Snape had caught Sirius, he’d have turned him over to the Ministry by now. Snape would love nothing more than to see Sirius kissed by a Dentor—it would satisfy his hatred without any legal consequences.
“Is there a deeper explanation, Professor?” Harry asked, staring intently at the crystal ball, searching for another interpretation.
“That is for you to decipher, my dear,” Professor Trelawney said regretfully.
Harry gave up on pressing Trelawney further, sensing that no matter how much he asked, she wouldn’t provide a clear answer.
So, he decided to try a different approach.
“Professor, I’d like you to make a prediction for ,” Harry said to Trelawney.
“Speak, my dear child,” Professor Trelawney replied, clearly delighted that Harry was seeking her foresight.
Harry looked at her and said, “I want to know where Sirius Black is.”
Professor Trelawney froze.
Then she nodded and said, “He’s been proven innocent, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, Professor,” Harry replied with a nod.
“You must understand, my dear,” Trelawney said, “even the greatest seers struggle to locate soone through prophecy. But I am different. Here, give the crystal ball.”
She extended her hand toward Harry.
Harry obediently picked up the crystal ball and placed it in her hands.
Professor Trelawney held the orb with both hands, gazing into it intently for a mont before saying to Harry, “No need to worry, my dear. You only need to wait until the day after tomorrow, and you’ll see Sirius Black at Hogwarts.”
“Really?” Harry said, a spark of excitent in his voice. After all, Sirius Black was his father’s close friend.
“Of course, my dear. That is what the Inner Eye tells ,” Professor Trelawney said, her voice both mysterious and cryptic.
The class was used to her enigmatic deanor; a Trelawney not lost in so mystical trance would have been the unusual sight.
Satisfied with the answer he’d received, Harry continued the lesson with a lighter heart.
When the class ended, Ron jolted awake from his nap.
“Class over?” Ron asked, wiping drool from the corner of his mouth.
“Just finished,” Harry replied, turning to Ron. “Co on, we should check on Hermione. She didn’t seem happy when she left.”
“Alright,” Ron said with a nod.
The two descended the spiral staircase, but a few steps out, Harry’s foot bumped into a crystal ball.
“Is this the one Hermione kicked?” Harry asked curiously, picking it up and showing it to Ron. “I can’t believe how hard she kicked it. We should probably take it back to Professor Trelawney.”
Ron shook his head vigorously, like a windmill.
“No way, mate,” he said rapidly. “I’m not going back up there. What if Trelawney grabs and starts predicting so Grim nonsense?”
“You’ve got a point…” Harry nodded. “Alright, you wait here. I’ll take the crystal ball back up.”
“Fine,” Ron agreed.
Harry turned and carried the crystal ball back to the Divination classroom.
Professor Trelawney was nowhere to be seen. Harry called out a few tis, but no one answered.
Feeling a bit foolish, he set the crystal ball down and turned to leave, only to feel a hand on his shoulder.
He turned to see Professor Trelawney, her eyes glassy, as if she were in so profound, mystical state.
anwhile, in the Slytherin Head of House office.
“Professor?”
A sweet voice rang out. After knocking, a beautiful Slytherin girl holding a small sack entered Snape’s office.
It was Veratia.
Snape was visibly irritated. His hands didn’t pause in their work, and he didn’t even glance up, rely grunting to acknowledge her presence.
Veratia didn’t seem to mind. She stepped lightly toward Snape’s desk.
“Professor,” she asked, “do you have any potions that can calm a magical creature? I’m sorry to disturb you, but it’s been causing quite a bit of trouble.”
At her words, Snape set down the potion vial he’d been handling.
He looked up, his expression blank, and said in a cold, flat tone, “I would think, Miss Grindelwald, that unless you’ve been infected with the stupidity of so Gryffindor troll, you’d know that your poor old professor is the Head of Slytherin and Potions Master, not Professor Scamander from Care of Magical Creatures.”
“But I believe you, as a Potions Master, would have a suitable solution,” Veratia said with a bright smile.
She was confident that the sack in her hands was sothing Snape couldn’t refuse.
“As I said, I am not…” Snape began, drawling slowly.
But before he could finish, Veratia opened the sack, and a large black dog, its front legs bound behind its back, tumbled onto the floor.
The dog was clearly dazed, taking a mont to adjust to the dimly lit room, illuminated only by flickering candles.
It blinked groggily, its eyes scanning the surroundings warily, as if assessing the ground beneath it.
When it saw Snape, it let out a low, threatening “Grr…” and crouched into an aggressive stance, ready to attack.
It was the posture of a creature facing an enemy!
Snape, who had been about to refuse, froze the mont he saw the black dog. His dark eyes narrowed sharply.
He studied the dog, and a twisted smile crept across his face.
“Well,” Snape said, his tone shifting, “as I was saying, I am the Head of Slytherin. As such… it is my duty to accommodate the reasonable requests of certain outstanding students.”
With that, he opened a drawer and pulled out an array of colorful potion bottles.
“Your old professor is more than happy to assist, Miss Grindelwald…”
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