In the Melancholy Moonlight

Chapter CXIII: My Problem

HARRY:

After lunch, the girls headed to Ancient Runes while Ron and I headed to Divination. I opted for a seat in the very back of the room — after the incident with my scar a few months prior, I wasn't too keen on sitting in the middle of the room in case it ever happened again — and I had just set my dream diary on the table when Ron elbowed me and jerked his chin in the direction of the trapdoor.

The pink venomous tentacula had arrived.

She smiled as she stepped up into the classroom. "Good afternoon, Professor Trelawney. You received my note, I trust? Giving the time and date of your inspection?"

Professor Trelawney nodded, and I noticed her hands were shaking as she passed out copies of Dream Oracle. Umbridge settled herself in a chair just behind the one Professor Trelawney often occupied and drew her clipboard.

Once the books were distributed, Professor Trelawney addressed the class as a whole. "We shall be continuing our study of prophetic dreams today. Divide into pairs, please, and interpret each other's latest nighttime visions with the aid of the Oracle."

As I opened my book, I glanced at Umbridge, who was already writing notes. After a couple of minutes, she got up and started walking around the room, making her way from group to group, asking questions, listening to discussions.

I turned to Ron. "Think of a dream, quick, in case the old toad comes our way."

"I did it last time, it's your turn, you tell me one."

I wracked my brain. "Oh, I don't know. Let's say I dreamed I was, I don't know, drowning Snape in my cauldron. Yeah, that'll do."

"Okay, we've got to add your age to the date you had the dream, the number of letters in the subject... would that be 'drowning' or 'cauldron' or 'Snape?'" he asked with a stifled snort of laughter.

"It doesn't matter, pick any of them," I replied, glancing over my shoulder to see where Umbridge was. She was talking to Neville, poor soul.

"What night did you dream this again?"

"I don't know, last night, whenever you like." I returned my attention to our table and listened hard. What I would give to have Lucy's sense of hearing right now...

"Now, you've been in this post how long, exactly?"

"Nearly sixteen years."

"Quite a period. So it was Professor Dumbledore who appointed you?"

"That's right."

"And you are a great-great-granddaughter of the celebrated Seer Cassandra Trelawney?"

"Yes."

"But I think — correct me if I am mistaken — that you are the first in your family since Cassandra to be possessed of second sight?"

"These things often skip — er — three generations."

"Of course. Well, if you could just predict something for me, then?"

There was a long pause.

"I don't understand you," Professor Trelawney said finally.

"I'd like you to make a prediction for me."

When I turned around to see the showdown for myself, curiosity finally getting the best of me, I found I was not the only one watching as Professor Trelawney straightened up and puffed her chest.

"The Inner Eye does not See upon command!"

"I see."

Umbridge made a small disapproving noise and started scribbling on her clipboard.