Atropos → george weasley

xxxv. secrets unveiled

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thirty five

secrets unveiled

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Ottilie's last name started with a V. This meant that, while waiting to be called for her final Divination exam, she found herself standing alone with Ron Weasley.

It was awkward.

It may not have been if only Ron weren't the world's most conspicuous ignorer. After Lisa Turpin ascended for her exam, he began to do his best to pretend that Ottilie wasn't there. He'd switch between glancing out of the window, examining the painting above her head, and staring at his shoes. The problem was, each time he switched targets to stare at, he'd accidentally make eye contact with her.

She found it strange. Ron had never liked her, sure, but he was now treating her as though he thought she was going to murder him just because they were alone and she had the opportunity.

"So, Ron, how's Harry been faring with that Grim? Think he'll croak before fourth year?" asked Ottilie after Ron acted like he hadn't just sneaked a peek at her for the twentieth time.

He frowned. "How's he faring against death? Well, so far, it's three-zero to Harry—I'd say he's got good odds." 

Finally, Lisa emerged from the trap door and climbed shakily down the silver ladder. There was an expression of concern on her face, and she avoided looking at Ottilie and Ron as she started down the spiral staircase.

A misty voice wafted from above their heads. "Van der Hoeven, Ottilie."

Ottilie gave Ron an ironic wave and headed up the ladder, nose already burning from the sweetness of the incense. The room was bathed in red as sunlight diffused through the curtains. Trelawney was at the fireplace with a crystal ball atop a small table. Ottilie had to wind through the maze of overstuffed chairs to get there.

As she sat down, Trelawney began, "Good afternoon, dear. Would you please gaze into the orb?"

With a sigh, Ottilie bent her neck and squinted into the white fog.

However, just like every other time she'd ever tried to read a crystal ball or a tarot deck or tea leaves, Ottilie saw absolutely nothing.

So, with gravitas, Ottilie closed her eyes and held her palms near the sides of the crystal. Even without touching it, the surface felt cool compared to the sweltering classroom. She breathed in deeply.

On the exhale, she said, "Yes...I...I see something..."

Trelawney's eyes were as round as the orb. "Yes, yes, very good. What do you see?"

"I see...oh, yes, it's got to be..." She studied the shapeless fog more closely. "I see the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor."

"Good," said Trelawney. "What about him? Does he seem to be feeling well?"

Ottilie nodded. "He's...oh...he's walking out of the front gates. He's...I think he's...leaving the school." There was an eager expression on Trelawney's face. "Leaving in a 'finding another job' way. Not in a death way."

It's not that Ottilie wanted her prediction to come true. She didn't. But, it seemed like a safe bet given that the school hadn't managed to keep a Defense teacher for more than a year since the sixties, according to her copy of Hogwarts, a History.

"Are you sure? He doesn't look distressed in the slightest?"

Ottilie stared at her for a moment. "No more than...usual, I guess."