"So you're just as screwed up as I am," He spoke for the first time since she started.
"Excuse me?" She asked, thrown off by his candidness. "No, I'm not. You're the..."
"Son of Voldemort, yeah, yeah," he waved his hand. "What I meant was, life's no...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Lyra Lovegood raced up the stairs of the north tower, clutching her books tightly under her arm. The sunshine from outside of the small windows reflected off her shoulder length platinum blonde curls as she took two steps at a time. Professor Trelawney was gonna say she knew Lyra would be late today, surely. The thought of being singled out in class like that was mortifying. When she reached the trapdoor that led up to the classroom, she jumped to grab the rope and pulled it down. A ladder fell in front of her. Making sure her books were secure, she climbed up. When she popped her head through the opening, she noticed everyone was talking amongst themselves. Maybe she could still sneak in unseen.
Professor Trelawney was sitting behind a round oak desk with a crystal ball cradled in a brass hawk claw set in the center. A kaleidoscope of colors was swirling within as she placed her hands on the sides. The table cloth beneath it shimmered like a prismatic ocean. Lyra stayed close to the wall as she snuck to a table on the top landing and sat down.
"Where have you been?" Mandy Brocklehurst, a fellow sixth year Ravenclaw with long jet black hair and ice-blue eyes, whispered as Lyra gently placed her books on the table, careful not to make noise.
"I overslept," she whispered, peaking at the page Mandy's book was open to.
"Again? Well, you're lucky. She hasn't started yet. Been in a trance like that since we all got here."
She glanced at Professor Trelawney, who was still gazing into the crystal sphere. Around the room, students dressed in green and blue were whispering and laughing on the three landings. She thought she could make out words like mental or loony. The second term she'd heard many times regarding her little sister Luna. But in this case, she was certain they were referring to the Professor.
A group of sixth year Slytherin boys huddled together at the table directly in front of her. She knew all of them, but some not as well as others. The blonde, Draco Malfoy, was snickering and pointing at Professor Trelawney.
"Probably thinking of another ridiculous story to make us all believe her made up prophecies are real," he scoffs.
The curly haired brunette next to him, Mattheo Riddle, laughed and twirled his wand between his fingers. "The only prophecy I would believe is one in which we find out she's getting fired for good. Hell, let's get rid of this class altogether."
"Mr. Riddle." Professor Trelawney looked up from her crystal ball. "If you are so interested in prophecies, I may have one for you."
She got up from her desk swiftly and walked to the table where the Slytherin boys sat. Mandy was giggling as She grabbed Mattheo's hands and started turning them over.
"Mmm Hmm," she mumbled to herself as she pulled his hands closer to her face. Her eyes, as large as saucers through her spectacles, studied his palms as she traced the lines running across his skin.
"Is that necessary?" The boy snarled.
"Yes, my boy, very."
Lyra listened, curious what the Professor would have to say. It was no secret that Mattheo came from a powerful family and that his father was he who must not be named. His mother, Bellatrix Lestrange, escaped from Azkaban last year. Many of the students kept their distance from him. Except for the Slytherin students, of course. Most of them tried to get in his good graces, with the hopes of probably getting in good standing with the dark lord.
