The Keep

37. The Squib who Sees

Seers were born in the family like Legillimens, randomly. And evidently, that degree of randomness didn't discriminate against those who were born as Squibs. Gerald Gillivray was a Squib born with the gift to See.

Hazel retraced her mind for anything else she can remember about Gerald Gillivray, but there was nothing. She must recheck the libraries in the Keep and Ponderhead Place to make sure, but she can remember nothing about him aside from how he left the family along with his mother.

But at least, Hazel might have found the Old Man Seer. And once she was sure of it, she would have something to calculate upon, to determine the probability of Zebina's prophecy.

Hazel's sleep that night was an uneasy one. She was dreaming of Gerald Gillivray, scrubbing the dirty chamber pots of the Alchemist and the Seer, while being laughed at by the other apprentices. She woke up with such an itch to go home to consult the books about Gerald Gillivray. Alas, she had classes to teach.

The cheer from the last Quidditch tournament and the gossip that soon followed have completely changed the previously gloomy mood in Hazel's classes. Question sessions were filled with questions about those two excitements.

Some of the boys asked for Ciaran Ashworth's signed photographs, and most of the girls were filled with blushing giggles when they asked about things like, "How does Ciaran Ashworth's sweat smells like?"

"I wouldn't know, Ludlum," Hazel answered as she shrugged off the goose bumps of her own horror imaginary of what was going on in the young lady's mind that Ludlum just had to ask that question.

"And that's it for the question session, now back to Integral Calculus of Probabilities. As you can see on the graph..." and as soon as the self-scribbling black board drew a curve, Hazel lost the class' attention.

Hazel didn't mind them, not anymore.

The Ravenclaw team's Quidditch training, too, was affected by their game at the tournament before. The team's overall mood was light and excited, even though they've collected only seventy points so far. Twenty from their game against Hufflepuff in November (it was 20-200), and fifty from the last game (it was 50-210).

The team was currently at the fourth place, even under Gryffindor's team who only had one game against Slytherin in November. The game was scored 120-150 to Slytherin, only because (as Ciaran told Hazel ever so apathetically,) hardware does matter.

Just like their game against Ravenclaw, Slytherin's Sirius 8.9 beat Gryffindor's Seeker to the Snitch. Slytherin wouldn't have a chance of winning if it weren't for their brooms, because Livvy Wood didn't even let one Slytherin's Quaffle through the hoops. Hazel has heard Johansson referred to the Gryffindor's Keeper as 'Quaffle-whisperer'.

And with the Quaffle-whisperer flying between Ravenclaw's team and the hoops when they would meet in the next game in May, Ravenclaw would most certainly retain their fourth place.

Even so, the team was training happily, whole-heartedly, even. They didn't care about the looming of their certain defeat. They just wanted to enjoy themselves.

Ciaran must have really inspired them, Hazel thought as the team's light-heartedness seeped into hers.

With a faint smile on her face, Hazel was strolling back into the castle, on her way to the dinner at Great Hall after overseeing Ravenclaw team's practice.

"Professor Gillivray," Hazel was stunned to her place as she heard the rich Russian accent calling her name.

"Professor Akhmedov," Hazel smiled, while she was flipping her wand behind her robe to summon The Alchemist from her bed.