What on earth did you learn?!

In the shadowy, mist-filled forest...

While Dumbledore spent some time marveling at the unique nature of the magic, Scrimgeour couldn't shake off his confusion about the rain-soaked woman he had seen earlier. However, before he could ask, a heavy thudding sound interrupted his thoughts.

The ground began to tremble slightly.

Scrimgeour and Dumbledore immediately turned serious, looking in the direction of the sound.

"Such heavy footsteps…" Scrimgeour muttered under his breath, frowning. "Could it be a dragon? Or a giant?"

But his questions were quickly answered.

Moments later, the source of the thudding noise emerged from the mist.

It was a giant house perched atop two enormous, two-story-high chicken legs. The legs looked both real and colossal, though they were of a muted, grayish hue, extending from the wooden floor of the small house. Vines covered the joints where the legs connected to the house, adding to its eerie appearance. On the exterior of the house, some deep blue nightshades dangled, lending an even more sinister and mysterious aura as the house moved through the dense forest.

...It looked unmistakably like the dwelling of a witch.

The chicken legs took a few more steps forward, halting with a rustling sound directly above them.

A small rope ladder unfurled from the house above.

"Let's go," Viktor said, turning to look at Dumbledore and Scrimgeour before climbing the ladder first.

Once all three of them had entered the warm, cozy wooden house, they finally felt grounded, as though everything they'd just experienced wasn't merely an illusion.

"This is incredible. Simply incredible," Dumbledore said, glancing around. His eyes lingered on the fireplace with its flickering flames and then on the massive chicken legs beneath the house, which had resumed moving.

"What kind of magic is this?" Scrimgeour couldn't help but ask Viktor. "Is it large-scale magic like at Hogwarts? Or is this house an alchemical creation?"

"Both are possible. I haven't really studied it," Viktor replied.

"You've certainly demonstrated the extraordinary nature of this place firsthand, Mr. Vandevoom," Dumbledore said slowly. "I now fully believe Harry's accidental entry into this realm was indeed a fluke. However, I remain curious—why was Harry able to stumble in here from somewhere near Privet Drive?"

"Is it some variation of a Muggle-repelling charm?" Scrimgeour guessed.

"Something like that," Viktor answered. "The mist surrounding the house moves constantly, drifting between England and Scotland. Occasionally, it drifts near cities. The mist can block most wizards and Muggles from entering, but if someone with a special talent crosses paths with it, the effect isn't as reliable."

"A special talent?" Scrimgeour pressed.

Viktor explained lazily, removing his pointed hat and hanging it on a nearby coat rack beside a full-length mirror.

At the moment, Baba Yaga herself was absent from the living room.

From where Dumbledore and Scrimgeour stood, they could take in the entire house at a glance. To their left was a row of windows beneath which stood a sink and cabinets; directly ahead was the fireplace; to their right were fabric-covered sofas and a rug; and behind them was a square dining table. The house wasn't large, but everything inside it felt warm and pleasant.

Dumbledore surveyed the surroundings thoughtfully.

"If that's the case, setting up another repelling charm should solve the issue," he remarked after a moment, "and it shouldn't be too difficult."

"Let's focus on another important matter, Mr. Vandevoom," he continued.

"Another matter?"

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded slowly and walked over to the dining table. "I hope you don't mind if an old man takes a seat?"

"Of course not. Please, both of you," Viktor said, gesturing for them to sit.

Dumbledore and Scrimgeour took their seats on either side of the table, while Viktor sat across from them. After the three of them were seated, a plump, stubby teapot waddled over, followed by three small teacups.

The teapot shook itself and poured a bit of red tea into each of the cups.

"Thank you. A warm cup of tea is just what I needed after such a long walk," Dumbledore said with a smile. He took a sip of his tea before setting the cup down and speaking with a solemn tone.

"I've come here for another reason as well."

"Mr. Vandevoom, last night, despite being in the company of all the other professors at Hogwarts, Professor Sybill Trelawney unfortunately fell into a deep sleep—just as you had 'predicted.'"

"Oh," Viktor responded nonchalantly.

"After thorough investigation by myself and members of the Ministry—including Director Scrimgeour here—we found no traces of curses or magical interference on Sybill. It was simply a toxic reaction between the vine she pricked herself on and the incense she had been inhaling daily."

"Sybill has been transferred to St. Mungo's for treatment. The hospital's best healers estimate it will take at least two years for her to wake up, as the herb involved has a two-year growth cycle..."

"It seems the first half of your 'prediction' has already come true."

Dumbledore didn't bother asking whether the second half would also come true. After all, Viktor himself had made the prediction, and the answer would only ever be "yes."

Moreover, Dumbledore had already verified it countless times.

Last night, everyone at Hogwarts had been with Trelawney. As the clock struck midnight, they were all in the Great Hall, chatting and enjoying desserts, confident nothing would go wrong. Dumbledore had personally kept an eye on Sybill and had ensured all the hall's windows were sealed, making it impossible for her to come into contact with any poisonous vines.

But during their conversation, Trelawney's headscarf accidentally fell to the ground.

When she bent down to retrieve it, she tripped over her long skirt and stumbled, accidentally opening a window. Her hand brushed against a vine growing just outside.

She fell unconscious and was rushed to St. Mungo's that very night.

The moment Dumbledore heard the diagnosis, he found himself believing in Viktor's "prediction" more than ever.

And indeed, he hadn't detected any traces of magic. Everything seemed to be a series of extraordinary coincidences, so much so that even the Wizards' Code of Law could not hold Viktor accountable.

What's more, if things truly unfolded as Viktor's prediction suggested, it would actually be a good thing.

Trelawney had long desired to possess genuine prophetic abilities, though she had no awareness of the predictions she'd made in the past.

Prophecies, after all, cannot be altered.

Dumbledore sighed, then retrieved a letter from his pocket and slid it across the table to Viktor.

The letter, sealed with a wax stamp featuring a crest of a badger, serpent, eagle, and lion, was unmistakably official.

"This is your appointment letter, Mr. Vandevoom. Hogwarts would like to offer you the position of Divination Professor for the next two years. The textbook previously used by Sybill was Unfogging the Future. If you'd like to make any changes to the curriculum, please inform us promptly so we can notify the students."

"In addition, the fifth-year students taking Divination will sit for their O.W.L.s at the end of the year, and graduating students will face their N.E.W.T. exams. You may need to dedicate extra time to those two groups."

Viktor accepted the letter, but he paused momentarily when the exams were mentioned.

"What were the usual Divination exam topics?" he asked with a faintly puzzled expression. His concern wasn't about the exams themselves but about their content.

—After all, with Trelawney's "inner eye" seemingly dormant for years at a time, what exactly had the students been learning all this time?

Could they really claim to know Divination if they couldn't see the future?

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