𝙮𝙤𝙪 || 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞: 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐤

Professor Trelawney's prediction of tea leaves takes a dark turn when she approaches Harry.

He was sitting with Ron and Hermione, just a couple of tables away from yours. You didn't even spot them until she hurries in their direction, prompting Ron to read Harry's teacup.

Hermione had a flat look on her face while the redhead struggles to explain. She seems to hate Divination with every second she spends in the class. You can't blame her. She prefers solid facts over a subject that almost crosses the line of fortune-telling. If she wasn't keen on getting good grades in all classes, she wouldn't even bat an eye at Divination.

"Harry's got a sort of a wonky cross," said Ron, flipping through his book. "That's trial and suffering. And, uh..."

With every page turned, his face scrunches up more in confusion. "That there could be the sun and that's happiness," he continues carefully, uncertainty apparent in his tone. "So, uh...you're gonna suffer, but you're gonna be happy about it."

He turns to Harry and although you can only see the back of his head, you can tell he was just as baffled as Ron. Hermione rolls her eyes. The prediction was nonsense, more than yours had been.

How can someone be happy while suffering?

"Give me the cup," said Professor Trelawney.

She barely peers inside before abruptly shouting, letting go of the cup, and stepping back with a horrified expression. Her mouth trembles, unable to form coherent words as she seems shaken by whatever she saw in a lump of tea leaves.

"My dear..." Began Professor Trelawney with a severe tone. "You have...the Grim."

You raise an eyebrow. The term was unfamiliar to you. The rest of the class erupts with whispers and questions. Those who knew clasp their hands over their mouths in shock. They were giving Harry the same looks he used to get back when he was accused of being the Heir of Slytherin.

"The Grin? What's the Grin?"

"Not the Grin, you idiot. The Grim."

Those who stared at Harry whirl their heads to the dark-skinned boy who spoke. He reads the description off of the book on his lap.

"'Taking form of a giant spectral dog. It's among the darkest omens in our world. It's an omen...of death'."

That tiny alarmed voice in your head was screaming again. You spontaneously thought of Black, his scraggly appearance, and the wanted posters flashing in your mind. It made you shudder. Still, you shouldn't jump to conclusions. Tea leaves, Grims, and wanted criminals were hardly interconnected if you thought about it. Especially in a class such as Divination.

It's simply absurd.

△⃒⃘ ⌁☍ ❾¾

After class was dismissed, the Gryffindors were in a rush to get to Transfiguration, so you couldn't talk to Harry. The remaining students stayed uncharacteristically quiet while waiting for their turn on the ladder, save for a few clueless Muggle-borns who were going around asking questions about the Grim.

Words went inside your ear and out the other. It's not that the topic wasn't interesting—you would gladly listen to a more detailed explanation of the Grim—but you were starting to feel lightheaded that you can hardly focus. The nauseating perfume permeating in the air almost choked you if you hadn't descended before anyone else.