♡ The Mistaken Hate: Drarry

Chapter 42

Harry's P.O.V

"Resurrection! Can you believe this thing can actually bring anyone back to life?" Draco exclaimed, waving the small vial about excitedly.

"Careful with that! You'll drop it in a minute, Drake," I said.

We were on our way to Divination, and Draco was still surprised of the power we now possessed.

"Drake? Since when did we start giving each other pet names?" He smirked.

I shrugged.

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," I replied.

"I like it. You can be..." he smiled deviously, "Harriet,"

"Whatever suits you," I smiled.

"Okay, Harriet, looks like we've arrived at you're favourite lesson now," Draco said.

We had reached the ladder in which we'd climb up to find a heavily perfumed classroom.

I always hated Divination, I don't know why I never dropped it, actually.

Professor Trelawney had a particular habit of predicting my deaths, and each time she was very wrong.

I knew I wasn't going to ever die any of the times she predicted, but it was just so annoying having her picking on me every lesson.

Draco and I climbed up the ladder and entered her classroom.

"Ah, my dears, you are late," Professor Trelawney stated.

"Well spotted," I heard Hermione mutter under her breath.

"We had to stay behind at Potions," Draco explained.

"Very well, my dears, you may take your seats," Trelawney said in her usual dreamy voice.

Draco and I found a spare table and sunk down into her purple-plush cushions.

"As I was saying, dears, death-omens are very important to study at this particular time of year," Trelawney continued to the rest of the class.

"Oh no," I muttered so only Draco could hear, who gave me a sympathetic stare.

"We must unleash our souls, let them linger among others for as long as possible..." she went on.

"For I sense, my dears, that there is the soul of one sitting among us in this very room, waiting to be unleashed sooner than soon," she spoke quietly.

I sighed. Professor Trelawney edged closer to our table.

"And I'm afraid, class, this soul won't be with us much longer. Let your sorrowful hearts make the most of this unfortunate spirit," she finished, visible tears glistening through her enlarged glasses.

She wandered over to our table and stopped right in front of us. She looked down at me, wearing a sorry expression, and bent down.

"My dear," she whispered. There was a slight pause, "let me see your palm."

I sighed loudly. I felt everyone in the room staring at me right now.

I saw the figure of a concerned Draco out the corner of my eye, and all I could hear was the signing of birds outside the school grounds.

I slowly held out my right hand to Trelawney, who took it in both her hands and held it flat.

She observed and stroked different areas of it for a few minutes, quietly whispering things to herself.

She finally looked up at me, I was close enough to see her tears dripping down her face now.

She dropped my hand.

"My dear," she muttered, "I'm very sorry to say... you are the spirit who will not be with us for much longer."

There were several gasps around the room. I looked over to Draco, who was shaking his head at me.

"And, my dear, I'm afraid that this time... there is no stopping it. Your death will occur very soon indeed, and there won't be many ways to save you," she whispered.

My heart was beating fast, and I felt myself sweating. Could she actually be right? This time her prediction felt... genuine...

She stood up and wandered back to the centre of the room. The entire class was still staring at me.

There was an another awkward pause, and I looked at Professor Trelawney who was now sitting at her desk, sobbing.

I looked down, I couldn't look at anyone... not now. Then I heard Draco's voice.

"Harry..."

I ignored him.

"Harry?" He spoke again, quieter this time.

I ignored him again. He kept calling my name.

"Harry? Harry... Harry!"