Magic? || Years 1-5

The Hippogriffs: Year 3

Amisty took a seat at the back of the room, setting up her books in front of her.

The lesson Professor McGonagall was teaching was about Animagi and it was very fascinating, but no one in the class could focus. They all kept sending glances over at Harry, who looked increasingly more and more displeased with all the attention he was receiving.

She watched in extreme interest as Professor McGonagall turned herself into a tabby cat with markings around her eyes that looked like her spectacles, but no one else seemed to even notice.

It was amazing, but apparently Professor Trelawney had left more of an impression than Amisty thought.

Professor McGonagall transformed back into her human form, staring around at them all.

"Really, what has got into you all today? Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class," She exclaimed, a trace of concern in her voice.

Everyone looked over at Harry once more.

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. There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?" She asked, a frown tugging on her lips.

Now the entire class's stares transferred to her.

"Me," Harry spoke at last, a heavy sigh following his voice.

There were a few nods around the room.

"I see. Then you should know, Potter, that Sybill 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 -- " Her voice broke off as it raised slightly with anger, as she continued it had simmered back down.

"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 -- " Once again, she stopped. "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."

Hermione and Amisty laughed lightly, the rest of the class were as silent as mice.

Harry did have a hint of a smile on his face, though, so Amisty felt better.

"But what about Neville's cup?" Lavender whispered, her brow furrowed as she thought back to the lesson.

Class continued and then it was time for lunch.

"Ron cheer up. You heard what Professor McGonagall said," Hermione reassured the redhead, who still looked very pale.

She pushed a bowl of stew toward him and he spooned some onto his plate.

"Harry you haven't seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?" Ron asked softly, his eyes dark.

"Yeah, I have. I saw one the night I left the Dursleys'," He turned over to Amisty. "Right, Am?"

She nodded and Ron's fork fell onto his plate with a loud clatter.

Now there was absolutely no color in his face whatsoever.

"Probably a stray," Hermione reasoned calmly.

"Hermione, if Harry's seen a Grim, that's -- that's bad. My -- my uncle Bilius saw one and -- and he died twenty-four hours later!" Ron argued, stumbling over his words.