My Godfather is an Innocent Convict (Rewrite)

Bad Omens

There was another tinkle of breaking china. Neville had smashed his second cup. Professor Trelawney sank into a vacant armchair, her glittering hand at her heart and her eyes closed.

"My dear child... my poor, dear child....no it is kinder not to say.. . no... don't ask me...."

"What is it, Professor?" asked Dean Thomas, while Seamus Finnigan came over to get a look.

Unfortunately, Professor Trilewany still had the cup.

Everyone had got to their feet, and slowly they crowded around Harry and Pansy's table, pressing close to Professor Trelawney's chair to try get a good look at Harriet's cup.

Harriet was trying really hard not to roll her eyes.

"My dear," Professor Trelawney's huge eyes opened dramatically, "You have the Grim."

"The what?" said Pansy. She had gone pale.

"The omen of death," Harriet elaborated for her, stifling a yawn.

"I know what the Grim is!" Pansy snapped back.

Trilewany decided to end the lesson there. She believed it kinder to the students.

"Well that was a waste of time!" Hermione commented as they descended the staircase.

"Seriously," Harriet said, "You could predict at least half of that by looking at the news."

"You mean the thing with Sirius Black?" Pansy asked. "Do you really think he's after you?"

"I'll let you know when I decide." Harriet glanced around. "I'm not sure yet."

They set off for Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration lesson.

Harriet chose a seat right at the back of the classroom. She noticed that no one was paying attention to what Professor McGonagall was saying about Animagi. She thought being able to turn into an animal sounded really cool and took as many notes as possible. She burst into applause when McGonagall turned into a cat.

Everyone else seemed to distracted by the death prophecy Trilewany had given.

"Really, what has got into you all today?" said Professor McGonagall, turning back into herself with a faint pop, and staring around at them all. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from everyone in a class."

Everybody's heads turned toward Harriet once again, but nobody spoke.

Then, Hermione raised her hand. "Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and -"

"Ah, of course," said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning.
"There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"

Everyone stared at her.

"That would be me." yawned Harriet.

"I see," said Professor McGonagall, fixing Harriet with her beady eyes. "Then you should know, Potter, that Sibyll Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues-"

Professor McGonagall broke off, and they saw her seemingly struggling with herself.

She went on, more calmly, "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney-"

Professor McGonagall stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of-fact tone, "You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."

"Thank you, Professor," Harriet said dryly, "I shall endeavour not to dissapoint with my untimely demise."

Lavender whispered, "But what about Neville's cup?"

"You didn't see that coming?" Blaise shot back.

After Transfiguration, they headed to Lunch. Hermione and Theo were dragged over to sit at the Slytherin table with the others.

"Do you really think there's nothing to it?" Pansy asked quietly.

"Not really," Harriet frowned. "Why?"

"Well," Pansy shifted uncomfortably, "The Grim is no joke! It's an age old omen and it's said that the future deceased sees it several times before their demise. It doesn't do much, just stand there and look."

"Yeah, we know this." Harriet rolled her eyes, "What are trying to say?"

"Have you seen any large, black dogs lately?"

"Yes, there was one outside my flat over summer. I'm still not convinced."

"Maybe there's something to it?" Pansy suggested.

"It would be fascinating to find out," Theo said, "I mean maybe people seeing black dogs before they died was just a coincidence. Correlation isn't causation!"

"That would be interesting. Think anyone else saw any big black dogs over summer? We can check if any of them die this year." Harriet was looking around the hall.

"I'm serious!" Pansy hissed.

"I thought you were called Pansy." Harriet deadpanned.

Their friends let out a collective groan.

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XOXO, Drachma