The Queen of Vipers || Fred Weasley

III.XII

Electra tried to look as normal as possible sitting in one of the many chintz armchairs at a table alone in Trelawney's over perfumed, hazy room.

The room had not changed since that first class three years ago. The scarlet scarves over the lamps cast the room in a dark red glow, the fireplace was blazing away, making the room unbearably stuffy, and the aroma of her burning incense were choking Electra. It looked like a model of a muggle fortune teller's den. Everything about this felt like a sham.

And perhaps it was because Electra already knew that nothing about the aesthetics of the room you were practicing in were necessary to See.

That and the fact that Trelawney had never given any true indignation that she had, as she so lovingly called it, 'the inner eye' herself.

Electra could feel the others' sneaking peeks to where she perched, straight backed, in the far left of the room. Oletta Upton and Sora Jeong had their heads together, whispering while stealing glances her way.

Harvey Beckette was leaning over his table, crinkling the star charts laid on top every table, to chat in hushed tones with the pair of Ravenclaws, Frank Eberhardt and William Fernsby, below him. Whatever was said between quick peeks at Electra, Harvey relayed to Margot Webster-Jones beside him, whose hand was sliding up his bicep.

Oh?

Electra watched her class with a keener eye now. Maria Talbott and Ava Shah were just out right staring at Electra while muttering to one another.

Bold.

In the row in front of her, Alicia Spinnet had her dark head bent towards Philippa Adams of Ravenclaw, their faces so close, their noses were basically touching. Philippa giggled quietly at something Alicia said while the other witch played with the end of Philippa's strawberry blonde plait.

Insane the things one notices when you actually look for once...

Salazar, she self-absorbed.

Another thing she noticed was, unfortunately, Araminta sitting alone in the front of the class, avidly avoiding looking up at Electra, even though she could almost feel the urge to do so radiating off her rigid frame.

"Good day," said a misty voice. Electra stiffened as the slim professor walked in. She had her signature shawls draped over her shoulder, dozens of rattling bangles lining her arms, and neck draped in necklaces of different lengths with an assortment of mismatched crystals and rocks attached. Sybill Trelawney surveyed her class through the thickest pair of glasses Electra had ever seen, making the woman's eyes look about three times their actual size.

"We will continue our lesson on Lithomancy that we started last class—"

Trelawney cut herself off the moment her magnified eyes found Electra in the shadows. "I knew you'd be back in my class one of these days Ms. Black."

Electra willed herself to not roll her eyes.

Trelawney whisked closer to where she sat, sounding like a dozen little windchimes as she moved. "I always sensed you had the gift." Already a chill was sent down her spine at her claim without the emphasis on the last word. "Ms Ayers," she said with a graceful wave of her arm in Araminta's direction, who jumped in her seat, "as my shining pupil I trust you can bring your Slytherin sister up to speed on Lithomancy. Please join her if you will. And bring the stones on your table."

Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding.

"Yes professor," said Araminta rather gloomily.

Araminta gathered up the velvet pouch on her table with her bag and moved across the room to join Electra at her table.