The latter half of Divination class had almost turned into a one-man show—Harold's show.
No one was paying attention to their own teacups anymore. Everyone had crowded around Harold and Harry instead.
It wasn't until Harold had finished interpreting the symbols that the crowd finally dispersed, laughing as they went.
To them, Harold's reading had been highly entertaining, but the absurdity of the final prediction... well, it only confirmed they were all equally clueless.
Harold just happened to make it look more convincing.
Everyone thought so—except Trelawney.
Although she, too, found Harold's prediction to be rather far-fetched, she didn't comment. Instead, she stared pensively at the tea dregs in Harry's cup, clearly deep in thought.
Meanwhile, Harry tried to interpret Harold's cup.
Perhaps because Harold hadn't drunk the tea himself, Harry struggled to make sense of the remaining leaves. He stared at them for a long time without seeing anything.
"There's a... I think it's a tall hat, maybe you'll work at the Ministry of Magic."
"And here's an animal... it has wings or something... no, I've got nothing." He pushed the cup toward Harold. "You'd better take a look yourself."
Harold peered down at the dregs.
Unlike the clear patterns in Harry's cup, his own was a mess. No matter how he squinted, it looked like nothing more than a heap of cheap, soggy tea leaves.
Luckily, the class bell rang.
Or, more accurately, a faint echo of the bell—so distant and muffled by the heavy curtains of the North Tower that it barely reached their ears.
"I believe that's all for today," said Trelawney. "Yes, gather your things now—and please, do not leave your pets behind."
Neville, already on his feet, reflexively glanced down—and locked eyes with Leif, who was curled up beside him.
His face turned bright red.
Clearly, if Trelawney hadn't said anything, he absolutely would've left Leif behind in the classroom.
Then again, why was Leif here? He should've been back in the dorm...
Had Neville forgotten to take him out of his pocket last night?
Now wasn't the time to think about it.
As the air in the classroom grew heavier, Neville shook his head and quickly stuffed Leif back into his pocket, hurrying out with the rest of the students.
Their next class was Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, and it was all the way back in the main part of the castle—a long trek from the North Tower.
Worried about being late, the group picked up the pace, jogging down the winding halls.
As they ran, Ron asked, "Hey, Harold… why didn't you tell us you had the gift of a Seer?"
"The what now?" Hermione looked over, puzzled.
"It means he can recognize patterns," Ron explained. "Only true Seers can spot the symbols in tea leaves, or in crystal balls.
"People with the gift can see all sorts of images. People without it—just mist."
"Oh, that reminds me," Ron puffed as he turned to Harold. "Did you check out those crystal balls on the shelf?"
"No," Harold said. "And I'm not even sure if I really have the gift or not. I couldn't see anything in my own cup."
"You sure?"
"Positive. Why would I lie?"
"Well, that is odd."
"What's odd about it?" Hermione said sharply, sounding exasperated. "I bet Trelawney is just another fraud, like Lockhart. The tea leaves are random. Some just happen to look like something."
"That's rich—you admitting Lockhart was a fraud?" Ron gawked at her in shock. He was so distracted he nearly walked into a suit of armor. Luckily, Harry spotted it and pulled him aside just in time.
"Whew—thanks, Harry." Ron eyed the gleaming sword in the armor's grip and patted his chest in relief.
Hermione didn't reply. But Ron didn't care much for Lockhart or Trelawney either way—what he really cared about was whether they'd be late and what McGonagall would do to punish them.
Unfortunately, the distance was too far.
Even running, they only reached the Entrance Hall by the time the bell rang.
Luckily, they weren't alone—no one arrived on time.
After asking why, Professor McGonagall decided to let everyone off the hook.
She glanced over the group, panting and flushed from the run, but still cheerful as they pulled out their Intermediate Transfiguration Guidebooks.
"Strange," she murmured, frowning. She turned to Hermione, who sat nearest. "That was your first Divination lesson, wasn't it?"
"Yes, Professor."
"And Trelawney didn't predict anyone's death?"
"No."
Hermione furrowed her brow and shook her head.
"How odd… has she finally stopped scaremongering?" McGonagall muttered under her breath.
"Pardon, Professor?" Hermione blinked in confusion.
"Nothing, Miss Granger. Take your seat," McGonagall said, clearing her throat.
In truth, she was surprised that Sybill Trelawney hadn't pulled her usual dramatic antics—especially the part where she predicted doom for at least one student in every first lesson.
Still, that might be a good thing.
If her students had come in shaken and frightened, she wouldn't have been able to teach anything. At least now they were in good spirits—and she could get straight to the lesson.
"Let's begin," McGonagall said, stepping to the front and tapping the desk lightly. The classroom instantly fell silent.
Today's topic: Animagi.
This didn't have much to do with Harold specifically—it was just what Intermediate Transfiguration covered.
Not that they were expected to master it, of course. Even seventh-years didn't learn how to become Animagi.
But since Animagus transformation was one of the most famous and difficult transfiguration feats, it was considered essential knowledge.
Hermione listened with rapt attention.
This, in her eyes, was what real magic looked like—logical, rule-based, with structure and clear theory.
McGonagall, standing before them, transformed herself into a tabby cat, complete with the spectacle-like markings around her eyes.
Gasps rippled through the room. The air itself seemed to warm.
They'd seen this before, in their very first class—but no matter how often they saw it, it never got old.
Back then, they'd only seen the cat. Now, they saw the entire process.
No wand. No incantation. Just a seamless transformation.
The applause was thunderous.
Minutes later, McGonagall returned to human form and raised a hand for silence.
"Remember the three keys to Animagus transformation—connect with your inner self... synchronize your heartbeat... complete the shift… Why aren't you writing this down?"
Quills flew across parchment as everyone scrambled to take notes.
…
(End of Chapter)