Divination had just been added to our timetable this year—and, honestly, the teacher was as eccentric as the rumors claimed. The classroom didn't resemble a classroom at all; it looked more like a cramped attic crossed with an old tearoom. About twenty tiny round tables were squeezed inside, each surrounded by plump little poufs. The curtains were drawn, the lamps were draped in crimson scarves, and the air was thick with stifling warmth.
And then there was that smell. A nauseating scent that clung to the room—no doubt coming from the large copper kettle bubbling over the fire. The place was circular, half-melted candles flickering weakly on the tables, and the shelves around the room were cluttered with dusty quills, torn playing cards, glittering crystal balls, and what had to be the world's largest teacup collection.
Everyone was whispering, as if we'd stepped into a badly decorated haunted house—one that spread ignorance rather than fear. I must've been staring around too long, because when I looked for a seat, every spot was taken except one—thankfully the one farthest from Ron.
Professor Trelawney swept in with the grand entrance I was expecting. She clearly thought herself ethereal, mystical, otherworldly—but even I could tell that true prophecies must've been a rare occurrence for her. Or perhaps Dumbledore kept her around for reasons only he understood.
Still, something deep inside me whispered that I should speak to her alone.
She began the class by terrifying students like Neville and Parvati with "predictions" she'd most likely dug up in advance. Then she paired us off. Harry and I ended up together.
Harry frowned over my teacup, trying to make sense of the tea leaves like his life depended on it. Just as I was about to laugh, Professor Trelawney drifted over, snatched my cup from his hands, and gasped so sharply I thought she might faint herself. Her eyes widened with a mix of horror and awe before she nearly tossed the cup back at me.
She peered into Harry's cup next and let out another shriek.
"My poor, poor children!" she cried dramatically. "Your paths cross—and then are severed! Such tragedy… such doom! I see death, my dears—terrible, unavoidable death!"
And just like that, she dismissed the class.
That was when it happened.
I think I fainted. One moment I was standing there, the next everything went black. All I remember was a flash—a sense that Professor Trelawney was in danger. She had no idea of her own power, wasting it on theatrics instead of learning to protect herself.
When I came to, gasping for breath, she was hovering over me, eyes wide and frantic.
"At last, you're awake, my dear! My Inner Eye sees you have contracted a dreadful afflic—"
"There's nothing wrong, Professor," I lied quickly. "Just didn't sleep well last night."
And before she could say another word, I fled the room.
Naturally, I'd missed Transfiguration, so I went straight to lunch. Every Gryffindor at the table seemed to be staring at me. If they found out I'd had some sort of vision, I'd never hear the end of it.
As usual, I barely ate and left early. The break was nearly over, and we were all gathering outside Hagrid's hut for Care of Magical Creatures.
Draco was being his usual insufferable self, trying to ruin the lesson. Hagrid looked flustered but perked up when he brought out the hippogriffs, clearly proud as he introduced them.
When Harry accidentally stepped forward, Hagrid took it as volunteering and encouraged him to bow. We held our breath as Harry mounted Buckbeak and soared into the sky. When he landed safely, the class erupted in cheers—except for Draco, whose glare could've curdled milk.
Then Draco sneered and strutted toward the creature. "You're not so dangerous, are you, you filthy beast?"
I don't even know why I did it—instinct, maybe—but I shoved him aside. We both fell to the ground, though I barely felt the impact before pain shot through me. A scream tore from my throat as blood spread from my sleeve down to my hand.
Everything went blurry after that. I think Draco reached me before Hagrid did—his voice was the last thing I heard, sharp and panicked.
I was being carried to the hospital wing.