𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐦𝐞 | 𝐇.𝐏.

𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟑 - 𝟔

"If Professor Trelawney tells us to 'broaden our minds' one more time, I might take my mind and pitch it out the window," I said, in the middle of another lesson in the hot, stuffy Divination classroom.

"You must look beyond!" Trelawney said, waving her arms in the air dramatically. "The art of crystal gazing is in the clearing of the inner eye!"

Weasley gave out a snore next to me. Hermione nudged him in the side, and he woke with a start.

"Now, what do we have here, hmm?" Trelawney asked, coming to our table. Potter took his head off the table and I tried to blink the tiredness out of my eyes. 

"Oh, do you mind me trying?" Hermione asked. I raised my eyebrows in surprise, as Hermione never participated in this class if she could help it. "You know, I think that's the Grim!" She said, feigning surprise.

"My dear, from the first moment you stepped foot in my class, I sensed that you did not possess the proper spirit for the noble art of Divination," Trelawney said, taking Hermione's right hand in her two knobby ones.

"Ah, you see here?" She asked, running a finger over the lines in Hermione's palm. "You may be young in years, but the heart that beats beneath your bosom is as shriveled as an old maid's." 

Hermione had a look on her face that could compete with my mother's. 

"Your soul, as dry as the pages of the books to which you so desperately cleave, mm-hm," Trelawney continued. 

Hermione ripped her hand out of the woman's grasp, and, upon standing up, knocked the crystal ball right off the stand and onto the floor. Weasley, Potter, and I looked after her in surprise as she proceeded to shoulder her bag and walk right out of the class.

Hermione Granger, leaving in the middle of a lesson. I was appalled, as I assumed were the rest of the students.

"Have I said something?" Trelawney asked innocently.

"She's gone mental, Hermione has," Weasley said as we walked back down the winding staircase. "I mean, not that she wasn't always mental, but now it's out in the open for everyone to see."

"Hang on," Potter said, bending down to pick up the crystal ball that Hermione had apparently sent halfway down the stairs. "We better take this back."

"I'm not going back," Weasley said, aghast. 

"I'll come," I sighed.

"Fine. See you later, Ron," Potter said, and we walked back up the stairs and through the door. The familiar blast of hot air and the smell of sickening perfume met my nose as we made our way to the tables.

It was completely empty, and an eerie feel had settled. Potter placed the crystal back on Trelawney's desk, but paused just as we were about to turn away. He stared into the smoke for a second, and then grabbed my arm.

"Alexandra. Let's go," he said frantically.

"What... why?" I asked worriedly.

Just then, an arm appeared from behind us and put its hand on Potter's shoulder. We both jumped and whipped around to see Professor Trelawney. But she was different.

Her eyes were wide and afraid, and her face was slack. 

"He will return tonight," she rasped. Her voice sounded multiplied and was deepened greatly. I grabbed Potter's hand and tried to pull him away, but Trelawney's own grip was too strong. 

"Sorry?" Potter gasped at her words.

"Tonight, he who betrayed his friends, whose heart rots with murder, shall break free. Innocent blood shall be spilt, the boy's heart shall become longing, and Servant and Master shall be reunited once more," Trelawney managed out, and then choked into a coughing fit.