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The Order of The Phoenix

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A thin woman heavily draped in shawls and glittering with strings of beads, Professor Trelawney always reminded Sadie of some kind of insect, with her glasses hugely magnifying her eyes. She was busy putting copies of battered leather-bound books on each of the spindly little tables with which her room was littered when Sadie entered the room, but the light cast by the lamps covered by scarves and the low-burning, sickly-scented fire was so dim she appeared not to notice him as he took a seat in the shadows. The rest of the class arrived over the next five minutes. Ron emerged from the trapdoor, looked around carefully, spotted Sadie and Harry and made directly for them, or as directly as he could while having to wend his way between tables, chairs and overstuffed pouffes.

"Hermione and I have stopped arguing," he said, sitting down beside Sadie, putting the shorter girl in the middle of them.

"Good," grunted Harry.

"But Hermione says she thinks it would be nice if you stopped taking out your temper on us," said Ron.

"I'm not. . . ."

"I'm just passing on the message," said Ron, talking over him. "But I reckon she's right. It's not our fault how Seamus and Snape treat you."

"I never said it. . . ."

"Good-day," said Professor Trelawney in her usual misty, dreamy voice, and Harry broke off. "And welcome back to Divination. I have, of course, been following your fortunes most carefully over the holidays, and am delighted to see that you have all returned to Hogwarts safely, as, of course, I knew you would."

Sadie and Ron exchanged looks.

"You will find on the tables before you copies of The Dream Oracle, by Inigo Imago. Dream interpretation is a most important means of divining the future and one that may very probably be tested in your OWL. Not, of course, that I believe examination passes or failures are of the remotest importance when it comes to the sacred art of divination. If you have the Seeing Eye, certificates and grades matter very little. However, the Headmaster likes you to sit the examination, so. . . ."

Her voice trailed away delicately, leaving them all in no doubt that Professor Trelawney considered her subject above such sordid matters as examinations.

"Turn, please, to the introduction and read what Imago has to say on the matter of dream interpretation. Then, divide into pairs. Use The Dream Oracle to interpret each other's most recent dreams. Carry on."

The one good thing to be said for this lesson was that it was not a double period. By the time they had all finished reading the introduction of the book, they had barely ten minutes left for dream interpretation. At the table next to Sadie, Harry and Ron, Dean had paired up with Neville, who immediately embarked on a long-winded explanation of a nightmare involving a pair of giant scissors wearing his grandmother's best hat. Sadie, Harry and Ron merely looked at each other glumly.

"I never remember my dreams," said Ron, "you say one."

"You must remember one of them," said Harry impatiently.

'Well, I dreamed I was playing Quidditch the other night," said Ron, screwing up his face in an effort to remember. "What d'you reckon that means?"

"Probably that you're going to be eaten by a giant marshmallow or something," said Sadie, turning the pages of The Dream Oracle without interest. It was very dull work looking up bits of dreams in the Oracle and Sadie was not cheered up when Professor Trelawney set them the task of keeping a dream diary for a month as homework. When the bell went, she, Harry and Ron led the way back down the ladder, Ron grumbling loudly.

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