𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄

Chapter 9

"Will you sing for me again?" Harry asked.

"No."

"Draco, I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't important. I know how you feel about it."

"Why is it important?"

"Because," Harry said cautiously, "you are a Veela, and your songs are… powerful."

Draco pondered that a moment, then said, just as carefully, "Only the truly powerful can relinquish power. So no, I won't sing for you."

~

With Draco's adamant refusal looming over him, Harry had to work out a way to decipher what small clues he had from Draco's song. Turning to the only person that he could think of who might know how to go about that, Harry reluctantly climbed the ladder to the Divinations tower.

Professor Trelawney greeted him with a vacant smile that didn't nearly reach her wary eyes, allowing him to sit with her by the fire in her study. Harry accepted the offer of tea because he could think of little to say to broach the topic he wanted to discuss. Holding the cup and sipping at the steamy drink worked for awhile, until he'd drained it to the dregs and had to sit it down to keep from looking awkward.

Tipping the empty cup towards her, Professor Trelawney peeked at the arrangement of the tea leaves, the glanced at him over the rims of her hideous cat-eye glasses.

"You are troubled."

Harry felt a pang of annoyance, but he bit back his sharp reply. It would be impolite and incorrigible to go to someone for help then insult her.

"Did my tealeaves tell you that?" he forced himself to ask in as curious a tone as he could stand.

Trelawney set the cup back and folded her hands in her lap. "No. You did – by the way you fidget and start to speak, then hold back." This time her smile held a hint of amusement. "However, I will admit that your tealeaf arrangement is quite… curious. I've never seen the like in all my years." Harry prepared himself to hear another spiel about danger and doom. What came next was very different – something that Trelawney never said to him (or anyone, Harry figured), though it was no less batty. "You will live… forever."

"Er," Harry said, clearly taken aback. He massaged the nape of his neck, starting to rethink asking for her help. "That's interesting."

"You don't believe me." Trelawney picked up the cup and scooted next to him. "Do you see this symbol here?" She pointed to a funny clump that could look like an eye if Harry squinted until the periphery of his vision grew fuzzy. "The eye: foresight, a gift of ageless mages throughout history; mere Seers do not form this mark." She pointed to another clump. It sort of looked like – well, Harry couldn't even hazard a guess as to what it looked like. "And this, a kettle, inverted, under a lion's paw. The kettle, symbol of death, turned on its head, crushed underfoot of the lion – strength, influence, power, royal blood." She continued pointing the symbols out and telling their meaning, a little too swiftly for Harry to determine if the strange shapes looked like any of the symbols she claimed that they did. "The acorn, youth, connected to the serpent, eternity; the yew: an inheritance; and the donkey: a legacy long awaited…. You will live forever."

"I… guess you're right," Harry hesitantly said when she looked at him expectantly. "You are the Seer, after all." Trelawney gave him a measuring look. "Which is why I wanted to speak to you. I'm a little embarrassed to say, but…. Of course you know that Draco, my, er, boyfriend, is a Veela. And I was curious."

"You want to know how to decipher Prophetic Phrase?" Harry nodded. "I can instruct you, but… I am not certain that it will be of much help. You see, Mr. Malfoy is no ordinary Veela."