66: Divination

The trapdoor suddenly opened, and a silvery ladder descended at Alaric's feet. Everyone went quiet. 

"After you," said a student nervously, so Alaric climbed the ladder first. 

He emerged into the most exaggerated-looking classroom he had ever seen. It didn't look like a classroom at all; more like a cross between someone's attic and an old-fashioned Muggle shop filled with fake trinkets.

At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little pouffes. Everything was lit with a dim, crimson light; the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves. It was stiflingly warm, and the fire that was burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle.

The shelves around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and an array of teacups.

"Where is she?" Someone asked after climbing up. 

A voice came suddenly out of the shadows; A soft, misty sort of voice.

"Welcome," it said. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last,"

Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight, and they saw how thin she was; her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings. Alaric already didn't like where this was going. 

"Sit, my children, sit," she said, and they all climbed awkwardly into armchairs or sank onto pouffes. 

Alaric chose the one farthest to the right, near a shelve full of dream casters. He opened the subject's book,  Unfogging the Future, and dropped it on the table. 

"Welcome to Divination," said Professor Trelawney, who had seated herself in a winged armchair near the fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye,"

What in Merlin's good name was she babbling about? True visions didn't come to a Seer as they pleased. Perhaps she was speaking of her concentration. 

Nobody said anything to this extraordinary pronouncement. Professor Trelawney delicately rearranged her shawl and continued, "So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you... Books can take you only so far in this field...."

At these words, Alaric nodded. Books were only used to learn how to properly read the signs found in the various forms of divination, and even then, they could prove useless. The subject was one of the most imprecise branches of magic. Very few had the patience for it. 

After the introduction, the students were divided into pairs. Alaric was paired with a short Slytherin boy, and they both went to fetch their teacups as the Professor had asked. Filling them with water, they drank until only the regs remained before switching cups. 

"You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing," Trelawney added. 

A simple tea leaves reading. A good introduction to the subject, in Alaric's opinion. He didn't need the book, so he just peered into his housemate's cup. 

"Broaden your minds, my dears, and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!" Professor Trelawney cried through the gloom.

Alaric's eyes closely traced the soggy brown leaves, looking for any kind of pattern. 

"Hm, a sunrise," He said so his pair could hear. "It means your life will go through a change," 

Trelawney approached them and took the cup. 

"Indeed, my dear boy," She said, her eyes looking almost like Quaffles due to the glasses. She looked Alaric's pair up and down. "Puberty, I dare say," 

The class broke into laughter. Even Alaric felt himself chuckle. The short student, however, was as red as a tomato. He shuffled across the table and grabbed Alaric's cup. 

"Er — What's this..." The boy flipped through the book. "...a bird? Oh, a falcon," 

"Let me see that, dear," 

He gave the professor the cup, and the whole class watched intently. Professor Trelawney was staring into the teacup, rotating it counterclockwise.

"The falcon... my dear, you have a deadly enemy," 

Everyone went quiet. Alaric felt all of their stares. 

"Tell me something I don't know," He clicked his tongue. Trelawney's eyes seemed to linger on the cup. 

"But I have good news!" She said and gave the cup to Alaric, who stared at her curiously. "He's dead!" 

The silence was quickly replaced by gasps.

"What?" Alaric gave her a perplexed look. He looked into the cup. There, right above the falcon, was a mush of leaves clearly in the shape of a cross. Confusion washed over him. "Voldemort isn't dead..." 

"DON'T SAY HIS NAME!" Trelawney yelled, gripping his shoulder tightly. 

Silence settled again. Even Alaric was surprised by her outburst. 

It seemed to dawn on the professor what she had done, so she quickly continued. 

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named took at least something from everyone, my dear boy," She said, sounding way too serious for her current appearance. "B-but he's dead. Long dead. Harry Potter defeated him the night he attacked Fleamont and Euphemia Potter's house!" 

Except Voldemort was still out there. He had seen him with his own two eyes the night he tried to steal the Philosopher's stone. Even Albus had confirmed the fact that the Dark Lord's threat was still very much alive. Then who...

After that, the class continued, albeit with the occasional side remark directed at Alaric. Lost in thought, he made a quick mental note to try some of the Weasley twins' new ideas on them.

When Trelawney bade them goodbye, Alaric had concluded that she was a Seer, albeit a near-useless one. The same feeling Alaric got from Gellert and Lysandra emanated from the Divination professor, yet she seemed to barely understand what she was doing. 

Her reading on Alaric's cup was followed by a series of completely inaccurate and made-up predictions, two of which she predicted a pair of students would die by the end of the day. According to McGonagall, she read the death of at least one student per year. 

"And it always ends with no one even getting hurt," remarked McGonagall, her fingers twirling the spoon in her teacup without making contact.

"Why does she even have the job, then?" asked Alaric, peering out of McGonagall's office window. He could see Hagird running hastily towards the castle. 

"I'm not at liberty to disclose the exact reason, Alaric," she responded cautiously. "But the headmaster hired her after she predicted a prophecy that piqued his interest,"

"And that has kept her job for the past fourteen years?" Alaric chuckled, pouring a tad too much sugar into his cup. "It must have been quite the prophecy,"

"I wouldn't know," the professor admitted. "The headmaster ensured that it remained shrouded in secrecy."

Alaric's curiosity was now piqued, but the accumulated exhaustion was weighing heavily upon him. He stood on the verge of leaving her office but stopped, his hand on the doorknob.

"Something the matter?" 

"Actually," Alaric turned around. "I was wondering what could've made Granger so happy yesterday after entering the Great Hall," 

"Had you chosen Muggle Studies as well, you'd know," McGonagall smiled, knowing she had irked the boy. 

"My interest has suddenly disappeared," Alaric sighed and left the office. 

__________

By seven o'clock in the evening, Alaric had reached his workshop. He stood outside, gazing at the dark wooden door flaring with colour from the different enchantments. Frustration was evident in his face. 

The setting sun illuminated the corridors with an orange glow, light seeping in through the large windows of the castle. 

With his wand in hand, Alaric approached the lock, softly murmuring a series of spells. The enchanted ring he had tossed earlier was the key to open the door, meaning he had to forcefully break the wards he cast himself to enter. 

"Finally," He said, hearing the soft click of the lock. 

Alaric looked again at the door, figuring he should remove Lysandra's name from the ward's list of permitted entrants. Afterwards, he took his necklace off and pointed his wand at it. Seeing the lock glow, he knew it was done. 

It was then Alaric heard footsteps coming towards him. He swiftly turned around, wand still drawn, only to laugh at what he saw. 

"What's that supposed to be?" He asked between chuckles, lowering his wand. 

The Weasley twins, Fred and George, stood a few feet away from him, both pulling a large brown sack. Their noses were bigger than usual, and their faces were riddled with sprouting beans. Alaric was pretty sure they had grown tails, but they were hidden beneath the robes. 

"A little work accident," Fred said. 

"Nothing out of the ordinary," George added. 

"I meant the sack," Alaric pointed at it. "Wait, actually, I already know. Come in," 

It didn't take a genius to figure out what could possibly be in a sack carried by the two. 

"We need more space," He said, flicking his wand in the corridor that led to the various sections of the workshop. 

Fred and George had seen a lot of interesting magic, but this had topped it all.

The white walls surrounding them crumbled, revealing the rooms behind the doors. First, it was the small office. Stacks of paper atop the wooden desk transformed into various paper aeroplanes, soaring into the waiting drawers in the corner. Those very drawers seemed to be infused with life, sprouting legs from beneath the wood and stepping aside. Alaric's desk disintegrated into splinters, promptly cleaned by an enchanted broom.

Next in line was the storage room, where shelves brimming with various magical materials gracefully glided against the walls, creating a big open space right in the middle of it all. 

Finally, as Fred and George shifted their gaze to the right, they witnessed a room filled with an abundance of artefacts and trinkets that packing themselves away.

"Are we seeing things, Fred?"

"No, George, I don't think so," 

They both stared at Alaric. 

"What?" He asked indignantly. "It needed some renovations," 

After dumping the contents of the sack on the large table Alaric had erupted in the centre of the room, the three sat around it. 

"So, uhhh..." Alaric started. "I see a lot of new things here," He grabbed something that looked like a nose-shaped cookie.

"Oh, that one's brilliant," George said. 

"The 'Sneaky Bogger'. Eat one, snot starts to fall uncontrollably from your nose," Fred added with a wink. 

"Pretty self-explanatory," Alaric eyed the item closer. "Who was the Guinea Pig?" 

"Good ol' Draco Malfoy," George snickered. 

"Deserving after the stunt he pulled in Hagrid's class," Fred snorted. 

"What? What stunt?" Alaric asked, suddenly remembering seeing the half-giant aghast. 

The twins looked at each other, confused. 

"You haven't heard?" 

"Where have you been all day, mate?" 

Alaric shrugged. He had tried to take a nap near the Black Lake after the tea session with Professor McGonagall and had properly fallen asleep, even if for only three hours. 

"Insulted a hippogrif, he did. Got bit in the arm because of it," said Fred, not bothering to hide his opinion on it. "Blamed it all on Hagrid. Your sister almost cursed him after," Still curious, Alaric gripped the chair's armrest tightly. 

"But when we went to peak at the infirmary, he was waving his arm around like a fool," said George. 

"I'm guessing his making a scene out of it," Alaric sighed exasperation. 

"Ding, ding, ding!" 

"We passed by the courtyard on our way here," Fred leaned forward. "The git was crying rivers to a pug-faced girl on how badly it hurt," 

"But then, we saw him wink at those goons of his. Thinks he's slick," 

"Shame he didn't get his arm ripped off," Alaric joked. "Wouldn't be much of a bully with a stump, would he?" 

The three laughed in unison before Alaric grabbed another prank item. It seemed this year wouldn't be as bad as he thought. 

**********

A/N: Don't forget to leave reviews! :)

Fun fact! The names of the plants in the wizarding world are based on real names. Rowling said that they're from a book called Culpeper's Complete Herbal, which was written in the 17th century by English botanist and herbalist Nicholas Culpeper.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!