by
Catherine King
Harry went up to the North Tower (a.k.a. Divination tower) with the usual sickly feeling in his stomach. Professor Trelawney greeted him in the unbearable classroom; it was stifling, heavily perfumed, and only half-lit. “Welcome,” she said in that voice that was as misty as San Francisco bay in the morning. “I am glad to see that you all are back. Many of you, I hope, will have studied over vacation, and are now beginning to be true Seers. You, boy,” she said suddenly, turning to Harry. “You have not seen the Grim anywhere, have you?” Harry rolled his eyes. “No, I haven’t.” “Good, good…” Professor Trelawney sighed. “I am eager to get to the most clinically advanced section of fortune-telling, so I want to get many things accomplished.”
The next two hours and fifteen minutes were just spent sitting by the windows, listening to the birds chirp, trying to recognize the songs, and finally trying to see what they meant. Ron constantly fell asleep, as well as Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan (Hermione might’ve fallen asleep, too, but she didn’t take Divination.).Professor Trelawny kept saying that the bird that Harry was listening to was playing the funeral march, which really bugged him.
After the lesson, Harry and Ron went down the ladder. On the landing was Hermione - along with someone who looked extremely familiar. “Well, well, well, Potter,” said Draco Malfoy in his usual voice, drawling with a ton of snob. “- oh, and here’s Mister Weasel. Your family’s books aren’t that good. I’ve read them. Potter here, if his family wrote books, they would only be twice as good. And they would be rich already! But no, Potter’s middle name is Orphan, because that lump of clay that they called his father -” “SHUT UP, DRACO MALFOY!!!” Harry had set foot on the marble staircase and now had turned around to face Malfoy. “Jeez, use common sense once in a while, will ya?” Harry had turned around, and Malfoy must’ve punched him in the back of the head, because the next moment, Harry was tumbling down the stairs, which were made of marble. Harry heard yells and shrieks and just saw a whirl of red colors…
* * * *
Much later, Harry was in the hospital wing, topping off his essay on the earliest tortures of witchcraft and wizardry. “And,” he wrote, “common people were afraid that witches and warlocks (as they were called at the time) could use their powers to kill, to destroy. So they decided to kill them as soon as powers were revealed, so that they (the witches + warlocks) wouldn’t have much time to kill or anything.” Harry thought for a moment, then added, “If a person found out that he or she was magical, it was the start of a period called gloom and doom, so to speak.”
Incoming footsteps told Harry that Ron and Hermione were coming. Harry quickly signed his name Harry Potter and put his quill into the inkwell as the two walked into the wing.
After Hermione walked in, carrying some parchment and her wand, which she used to refill Harry’s inkwell, Ron walked in, carrying ‘Curses to Old Egypt’. “You should’ve seen Dean Thomas when he set eyes on Professor Gradison, the new teacher,” Ron said in an undertone to Harry. “What’s the teacher like?” “Oh, she’s awesome! Her hair is light brown, falling just beneath her shoulders -” “I meant,” said Harry, cutting Ron off, “what’s her personality like?” “Oh, that. Well, she doesn’t shout at all, only adds points, she hasn’t taken any away yet, and she didn’t give any detentions. ‘What a teacher’ is all I can say.” “Anyway, Harry,” said Hermione, rolling her eyes, “she wants us to study the charms and curses that ancient Egyptians put on the tombs. Professor Gradison also hinted that later in the year we would be studying about the extremely difficult charm known to many as ‘The Mummy’s Curse’!”
“And such a slim figure, too. She said she was only 30, and also was impressed with my family tree. I was flattered…”
“She said that she was a good friend of Professor Lupin, both of them, and that he was doing well in the werewolf camp he was sent to…”
“Um, Ron, Hermione?” Startled, they turned to him. “Can you tell me which pages to study?”
