It was a sea of pointed black hats; each of the long House tables was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of candles, which were floating over the tables in mid-air.
Professor Flitwick, who was a tiny little wizard with a shock of white hair, was carrying an ancient hat and a three-legged stool out of the hall.
"Ah," Harry scoffed softly, "I've missed the Sorting."
He made his way to the Gryffindor table, scanning it as he did so for the new faces, surprised at how young they looked.
"What did McGonagall want?" Ron muttered to Harry when he sat down.
Harry started to explain in a whisper, but at that moment the headmaster stood up to speak, and he broke off.
Professor Dumbledore, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy. He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, half-moon spectacles, and an extremely crooked nose. He was often described as the greatest wizard of the age, and Harry agreed. He trusted Dumbledore explicitly, but had only spoken with him briefly this summer, at Sirius's house. Harry wondered how involved Dumbledore was in investigating the breakout from Azkaban.
"Welcome!" said the headmaster, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…"
Professor McGonagall and Hermione arrived, each of them heading for their usual seat, with Dumbledore nodding in greeting at McGonagall before continuing.
"As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."
He paused, and Harry examined the headmaster's face, certain that Dumbledore was not happy to have the dementors at Hogwarts.
"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly, and Harry and Ron glanced at each other. "It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors," he said.
Percy, who was sitting a few seats down from Harry, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively. Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.
"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.
"First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."
There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause, which Harry did not think Professor Lupin even noticed, standing to smile and wave quickly before sitting right back down. He looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes, and Harry immediately made plans to remedy that.
"Look at Snape!" Ron hissed in Harry's ear.
Professor Snape was staring along the staff table at Professor Lupin. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, but even Harry, who hated Snape, was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. It was beyond anger: it was loathing. Harry knew that expression only too well; it was the look Snape wore every time he set eyes on Harry. There had to be a reason Snape hated Lupin this much.
"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at one another, stunned. Then they joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular. Harry leaned forward to see Hagrid, who was ruby-red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard.
"We should've known!" Ron roared, pounding the table. "Who else would have assigned us a biting book?"
"It's such a relief!" Harry said. "I spent all summer wondering why Hagrid wasn't coming around as much to see the dragons, but this explains it — he was getting ready for the new school year. This is brilliant!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were the last to stop clapping, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, they saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.
"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"
The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. Harry, suddenly ravenous, helped himself to everything he could reach and began to eat. He ate very well at home, but there was nothing quite like a Hogwarts feast.
The hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, were eager for it to finish so that they could talk to Hagrid. They knew how much being made a teacher would mean to him. Dumbledore hiring Hagrid and Lupin made Harry respect the man even more than he already did, which was saying a lot. At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed, and they got their chance.
"Congratulations, Hagrid!" Hermione squealed as they reached the teachers' table.
"All down ter you three," said Hagrid, wiping his shining face on his napkin as he looked up at them. "Can' believe it… great man, Dumbledore…. came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he'd had enough… It's what I always wanted…"
"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked kindly.
"Wanted it ter be a surprise, o' course!" Hagrid said, wiping at his eyes again with a napkin.
"Well it worked, Professor," Harry said.
That turned out to be too much for Hagrid, who was overcome with emotion and buried his face in his napkin. Professor McGonagall came along to shoo the three of them away.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined the sleepy Gryffindors streaming up the marble staircase, along more corridors, up more and more stairs, to the hidden entrance to Gryffindor Tower.
"I should have called him Professor," Hermione lamented as they stood around waiting for Percy to arrive with whatever the new password was. "I just called him Hagrid! Can you imagine doing that with any of the other teachers?"
Harry patted her shoulder consolingly, and she pouted, looking up at him.
"If you had said it right off, then he might not have been able to talk to us, so it's really for the best," Harry tried to convince her.
A gasp distracted the both of them, and they turned to see Lavender Brown with both hands to her mouth, gaping at Ron, who had taken Albert the Puffskein out of his pocket.
"He's adorable!" she gushed once she was able to catch her breath. She stepped forward slowly, wiggling her fingers in front of her as she got closer to Ron. "Can I pet him?"
Ron let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah. He does seem to want you to…"
In Ron's hands, Albert had caught sight of Lavender approaching, and was wiggling rather fiercely and yet somehow in a very cute way in anticipation. Puffskeins were not the most intelligent of magical creatures, but Harry could feel enough from Albert to know he was sincerely excited about another person from whom to receive cuddles.
This prompted Lavender to squeak in excitement almost more than Albert was doing, which further increased his eagerness, a process that continued to loop until Lavender finally got her hands on Albert, sinking her fingertips into his soft fur as Ron continued holding him, he and Lavender now essentially administering a cuddle together with the little animal. Harry saw the tips of Ron's ears turn bright red, which luckily no one seemed to notice as their attention was mostly on Albert.
Even the fat lady in the portrait that guarded the entrance to Gryffindor Tower was distracted for a good while before coming to her senses and asking them, as was her duty, "Password?"
"Coming through, coming through!" Percy called from behind the crowd. "The new password's 'Fortuna Major'!"
Neville Longbottom muttered the password under his breath several times as the portrait swung open and people began climbing in. He always had trouble remembering the passwords.
Through the portrait hole and across the common room, the girls and boys divided toward their separate staircases, Ron having to make a real effort to get away from the witches clambering for Albert's attention. Sirius had predicted this response perfectly, but Harry also felt that Ron had grown older-looking over the summer, and that it might have something to do with it.
Harry said goodnight to Hermione, then moved to help Ron, if Ron even wanted help. When Harry saw the somewhat panicked look in Ron's eyes at the sheer number of people pushing in on him, he knew Ron would appreciate a hand.
When he was just outside the circle of admirers, Harry focused his mind on Albert. It was slightly overwhelming at first, the utter joy Harry felt from the little Puffskein. Grinning, Harry held out his arm and wiggled his fingers, using his magical connection with animals to catch Albert's attention.
At once, Albert popped his head up, earning squeals of laughter and enjoyment from the onlookers, as none of them would likely have guessed how far Albert could stretch the neck they likely did not even know he had. When Albert made eye contact with Harry, he wiggled and began looking for a way to get to him. When Ron too looked up to see what Albert was looking at, Harry gestured to Ron, who thankfully understood what Harry was suggesting.
Ron smiled. "Say goodnight Albert," he said, then held him up and tossed him across the common room, those watching exhaling a collective gasp as he did.
Albert flew through the air, Ron's aim spot-on, and Harry caught him easily, Albert enjoying the experience tremendously. Without waiting, Harry turned and began climbing the spiral stair, taking his time until Ron caught up with him.
"Thanks," Ron said, accepting Albert back from Harry.
They reached their familiar, circular dormitory with its five four-poster beds. Hedwig hooted at him when he walked over to her. He spent some time scratching her behind the ears before she hopped onto his shoulder and stayed there while he put some of his things away and organized his belongings. By the time he was done, Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus were fast asleep. Harry, too, felt that he could sleep. In fact, getting into bed right now sounded like a perfect way to end the evening… but if he did so, he knew he would regret it. He wanted to have a better feel for what was happening at Hogwarts right now, and wanted to at least take one circuit around the castle grounds before going to bed.
After making certain that everyone was asleep, Harry stood next to Hedwig's perch, nodding to her knowingly. She had flown around Hogwarts with him enough times to recognize when he was about to change to either his Snidget or eagle form to take off into the night. Deciding on the eagle, Harry hopped into the air and transformed… or at least, he tried.
Having done this countless times, Harry knew exactly how his body would feel as it changed and moved through the air towards the window, only… that was not at all what happened. It was as though a barrier surrounded him, stopping his magic from being able to change his form. Unbalanced and ten times the size he thought he would be in the moment, instead of fluttering his wings to take him through the window, Harry's arms flapped uselessly, and he was just barely able to keep his face from slamming into the windowsill, his knees cracking into the floor and his hands slapping the wall of the window, his body bent backwards.
The commotion made Seamus sit up in bed and pop his head out of his four-poster, but he did not appear to find Harry's situation interesting enough to do anything about it, falling back onto the mattress.
Harry got to his feet and consoled a somewhat distraught Hedwig. Once she was calmed down, Harry changed into his pyjamas and climbed into his own bed. Once his curtains were closed, he tried in turn to change into each of his Animagus forms… at least the ones that could fit themselves in his bed. One after another, Harry felt the same barrier, enough so that he began to get a feel for the magic involved. It was not specific to Harry, but rather to blocking any Animagus from being able transform within Hogwarts.
As he lay there lamenting this development, Harry reasoned out the most likely explanation, which was that Dumbledore had modified the wards on the castle in response to discovering that Peter Pettigrew had spent years at Hogwarts, hiding as a rat. Still, Harry wondered about a few things: Did the ward stop someone only from transforming within Hogwarts, or the entire grounds? What if someone came into the castle already transformed—would this ward force them to transform back into human form? Was McGonagall, a registered cat Animagus, exempt, and if so, how? If Harry could determine how she was excluded from the magic (if she even was), then perhaps he could find a way to manage it as well.
There was a lot to figure out, and Harry had to work hard to convince himself that he did not have to unravel all of these mysteries tonight. Eventually, he was eventually able to calm his mind enough to finally fall asleep.
When he woke up the next morning, the first thing Harry wanted to do was tell Sirius about Lupin, but he knew his godfather would likely not be awake for at least three hours. He was not a morning person. Reluctantly, he kept his mirror in his trunk and went to breakfast with everyone else, sitting down at the Gryffindor table next to George Weasley.
"New third-year course schedules," said George, passing them over. "What's up with you, Harry?"
Harry looked up, not realizing until that moment that he was frowning.
"Oh. Erm…" He was hesitant to talk about Lupin, but when he thought about why, he realized that the only reason was because of his lycanthropy, which had no relevance to Harry's connection to him. "I was just lamenting the fact that Sirius is a late sleeper."
George's face screwed up in confusion as he poured orange juice for a yawning Ginny.
"He knew Professor Lupin, back in the day," Harry explained, scooping some hashbrowns onto Ginny's plate. "I wanted to tell him, but there's no way he's awake."
"Lucky him," Fred said, serving Ginny some sausages.
Catching on, Ron placed the piece of toast he had been buttering onto Ginny's plate as well.
"Merlin's blue balls," Ginny complained sleepily, holding her hands up in confusion.
"Ginny!" Hermione admonished, but Harry saw a hint of a smile between her fingers as she held her hand to her mouth, which only made everyone else laugh harder.
"There there," Fred said, patting Ginny on the head. "We've all had a chat, your brothers, and we agree that we failed you last year and aren't going to let that happen again."
"How did you sleep, Ginny?" Percy asked after sitting down from helping to pass out schedules.
This brought a renewed round of laughter from the group.
"I will literally never eat again if you keep at this," Ginny said, staring through the table. "I mean… I appreciate it," she looked up at each of them, "but I'm… I'm good."
The boys nodded, and there seemed to be a collective understanding to let her be.
"Well, they're really coming out of the woodwork, aren't they? The old gang?" Fred said, circling back on the conversation and stealing some of Ginny's sausages, earning an amused sigh from her.
"That's true," Harry said, then realized something. "Oh…" He looked from Fred and George to Professor Lupin, who was chatting quietly with Professor Vector at the Head Table. He chuckled. "I've just realized that I've been holding onto some wild information… unless Ron's already told you."
They all looked at Ron, who did not seem to know what Harry was talking about, but swallowed and replied regardless.
"I try not to talk to them, if I can help it."
Fred frowned, and George laughed, their opposite reactions amusing the others.
"Okay," Harry went on. "Well, so you know my father was one of the Marauders…"
Almost immediately, both Fred and George seemed to know where this was headed, their faces lighting up.
"And you know he was friends with Sirius…" Harry was enjoying dragging this out from the reactions he was getting from Fred and George. "They were best friends, really — my father, Sirius, Pettigrew (there was a collective grimace from the table), and… Remus Lupin." Harry gestured to the professor. "They even made up a name for their little band of troublemakers."
"Don't," Fred warned. "Don't say it unless it's true."
Harry tilted his head wryly. "But it is true," he said. "Fancied themselves the 'Marauders.'
George let his fork clatter to his place, sitting back in stoic disbelief. "Please close the window," he said dryly, which earned a smile from anyone that knew the etymology of the phrase, which had evolved from Lee Jordan's habitual use of "Shut the front door."
"The window shall remain open," Harry said, enjoying the twins' reaction.
At the Head Table, Professor Lupin caught sight of so many Gryffindor heads turned his way, and after a few seconds, gave them all a friendly wave.
A groggy-looking Lee Jordan came and sat down, and the twins began bombarding him with the development. Hermione began examining her new schedule.
"Ooh, good, we're starting some new subjects today," she said happily.
"Hermione," said Ron, frowning as he looked over her shoulder, "they've messed up your schedule. Look — they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough time."
"I'll manage. I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."
"But look," said Ron, laughing, "see this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o'clock, Muggle Studies. And" — Ron leaned closer to the schedule, disbelieving — "look — underneath that, Arithmancy, nine o'clock. I mean, I know you're good, Hermione, but no one's that good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?"
"Don't be silly," said Hermione shortly. "Of course I won't be in three classes at once."
"Well, then —"
"Pass the marmalade," said Hermione.
"But wait — Harry, the same thing goes for you," Ron said, turning to him. "How are you taking Divination and Arithmancy at the same time?"
"I also fixed it with McGonagall," Harry said. "I'm taking Arithmancy as something of an independent study, which is right up my alley, and then I'm checking in with Professor Vector every now and then."
Ron nodded, although he seemed to find the very idea of independent study a tad repulsive. He looked at Hermione. "You could have just said that," he said, sounding a little annoyed.
Hermione gave no response except for a sideways glance at Harry, before taking a bite of egg.
Just then, Hagrid entered the Great Hall. He was wearing his long moleskin overcoat and was absentmindedly swinging a dead polecat from one enormous hand.
"All righ'?" he said eagerly, pausing on the way to the staff table. "Yer in my firs' ever lesson! Right after lunch! Bin up since five gettin' everythin' ready… Hope it's okay… Me, a teacher… hones'ly…"
He grinned broadly at them and headed off to the staff table, still swinging the polecat.
"Wonder what he's been getting ready?" said Ron, a note of anxiety in his voice. Harry could not blame him, and for the first time felt a little nervous for Hagrid for his first day of teaching.
The hall was starting to empty as people headed off toward their first lesson. Ron checked his course schedule.
"We'd better go, look, Divination's at the top of North Tower. It'll take us ten minutes to get there…"
They finished their breakfasts hastily, said good-bye to everyone else, and walked back through the hall. The journey through the castle to North Tower was a long one. It became evident at once to Harry that Ron and Hermione had never before been there.
"There's — got — to — be — a — shortcut," Ron panted as they climbed their seventh long staircase and emerged on an unfamiliar landing, where there was nothing but a large painting of a bare stretch of grass hanging on the stone wall.
"I think it's this way," said Hermione, peering down the empty passage to the right.
"Can't be," said Ron. "That's south, look, you can see a bit of the lake out of the window…"
Harry was watching the painting. A fat, dapple-Gray pony had just ambled onto the grass and was grazing nonchalantly. Harry was used to the subjects of Hogwarts paintings moving around and leaving their frames to visit one another, but he always enjoyed watching it. He had taken some inspiration from this facet of magical portraits when designing the Message Mirror. A moment later, a short, squat knight in a suit of armour clanked into the picture after his pony. By the look of the grass stains on his metal knees, he had just fallen off.
"Aha!" he yelled, seeing Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "What villains are these, that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!"
They watched in astonishment as the little knight tugged his sword out of its scabbard and began brandishing it violently, hopping up and down in rage. But the sword was too long for him; a particularly wild swing made him overbalance, and he landed facedown in the grass.
"Are you all right?" said Harry, moving closer to the picture and failing to hide a grin of amusement at the little knight's antics.
"Get back, you scurvy braggart! Back, you rogue!"
The knight seized his sword again and used it to push himself back up, but the blade sank deeply into the grass and, though he pulled with all his might, he couldn't get it out again. Finally, he had to flop back down onto the grass and push up his visor to mop his sweating face.
"Good sir," said Hermione, taking advantage of the knight's exhaustion, "we're looking for the North Tower. Would you happen to know the way?"
"A quest!" The knight's rage seemed to vanish instantly. He clanked to his feet and shouted, "Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!"
He gave the sword another fruitless tug, tried and failed to mount the fat pony, gave up, and cried, "On foot then, good sirs and gentle lady! On! On!"
And he ran, clanking loudly, into the left side of the frame and out of sight.
They hurried after him along the corridor, following the sound of his armour. Although Harry knew perfectly well where the North Tower was, he let the knight lead the way, the three of them enjoying trying to keep up with him as he ran from one picture into another.
"Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come!" yelled the knight, and they saw him reappear in front of an alarmed group of women in crinolines, whose picture hung on the wall of a narrow spiral staircase.
Puffing loudly, Harry, Ron, and Hermione climbed the tightly spiralling steps, Hermione getting dizzy enough to hold onto Harry's arm, until at last they heard the murmur of voices above them and knew they had reached the classroom.
"Farewell!" cried the knight, popping his head into a painting of some sinister-looking monks. "Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If ever you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!"
"Yeah, we'll call you," muttered Ron as the knight disappeared, "if we ever need someone mental."
They climbed the last few steps and emerged onto a tiny landing, where most of the class was already assembled. There were no doors off this landing, but Ron nudged Harry and pointed at the ceiling, where there was a circular trapdoor with a brass plaque on it.
"'Sibyll Trelawney, Divination teacher,'" Harry read. "How're we supposed to get up there?"
As though in answer to his question, the trapdoor suddenly opened, and a silvery ladder descended right at Harry's feet. Everyone got quiet.
"After you," said Ron, grinning, so Harry climbed the ladder first.
He emerged into the strangest-looking classroom he had ever seen. In fact, it didn't look like a classroom at all, more like a cross between someone's attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. Everything was lit with a dim, crimson light; the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves. It was stiflingly warm, and the fire that was burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a huge array of teacups.
Ron appeared at Harry's shoulder as the class assembled around them, all talking in whispers.
"Where is she?" Ron said.
A voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft, misty sort of voice.
"Welcome," it said. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."
Harry's immediate impression was of a large, glittering insect. Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight, and they saw that she was very thin; her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings.
"Sit, my children, sit," she said, and they all climbed awkwardly into armchairs or sank onto poufs. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat themselves around the same round table.
"Welcome to Divination," said Professor Trelawney, who had seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."
Nobody said anything to this extraordinary pronouncement. Harry found himself staring, open-mouthed. Never before had he seen anything like what he was seeing now. When he had first laid eyes on Professor Trelawney, the only thing that had seemed unusual had been her style, but the longer Harry looked at her, the stronger the sense of… something…
Professor Trelawney delicately rearranged her shawl and continued, "So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field…"
Harry had an awareness of Ron's reaction to this, glancing at Hermione, whose very nature revolved around book learning, but Harry's own reaction centered around something else. Professor Trelawney… was glowing. For a few seconds, Harry looked around to the other students, wanting to share looks of disbelief at what they were all seeing, but it became clear to him quickly that none of them were alarmed at the occurrence, which led Harry to realize that it was due to the fact that they were unable to see what he did.
"Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearing's, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future," Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. "It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy," she said suddenly to Neville, who almost toppled off his pouf. "Is your grandmother well?"
"I think so," said Neville tremulously.
"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear," said Professor Trelawney, the firelight glinting on her long emerald earrings.
Neville gulped, and Harry shared his concern. For an unknown reason, he took Professor Trelawney's warning seriously. He had just caught himself from gasping audibly when he realized the familiarity of her strange glow. It was… a sense — a sense of connection. Professor Trelawney was a Seer, like he was, Harry realized. The woman was the real deal.
"We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year," she continued, unaware of Harry's revelation. "The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she shot suddenly at Parvati Patil, "beware a red-haired man."
Parvati gave a startled look at Ron, who was right behind her, and edged her chair away from him.
"In the second term," Professor Trelawney went on, "we shall progress to the crystal ball — if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever."
A very tense silence followed this pronouncement, but Professor Trelawney seemed unaware of it. Harry amped his senses up to the maximum, drinking in every word, inflection, and movement from the Divination professor.
"I wonder, dear," she said to Lavender Brown, who was nearest and shrank back in her chair, "if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?"
Lavender, looking relieved, stood up, took an enormous teapot from the shelf, and put it down on the table in front of Professor Trelawney.
"Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading — it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October."
Lavender trembled.
"Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh, and dear" — she caught Neville by the arm as he made to stand up — "after you've broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I'm rather attached to the pink."
Sure enough, Neville had no sooner reached the shelf of teacups when there was a tinkle of breaking China. Professor Trelawney swept over to him holding a dustpan and brush and said, "One of the blue ones, then, dear, if you wouldn't mind… thank you…"
When Harry and Ron had had their teacups filled, they went back to their table and tried to drink the scalding tea quickly. Harry had a hard time keeping his cup still, having to work to calm his mind, so overwhelmed was he by Trelawney's presence. They swilled the dregs around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped over.
"Right," said Ron as they both opened their books at pages five and six. "What can you see in mine?"
"Erm… a load of soggy brown stuff," said Harry, wondering how a book could possibly help them decipher their tea leaves, and why Professor Trelawney was having them do this at all, when she was clearly so strongly talented in Divination. The heavily perfumed smoke in the room was not helping, making him feel sleepy and stupid.
"Broaden your minds, my dears, and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!" Professor Trelawney cried through the gloom.
Harry tried to pull himself together. "Right, you've got a crooked sort of cross…" He consulted Unfogging the Future. "According to this, that means you're going to have 'trials and suffering' — I don't like that — but there's a thing that could be the sun… hang on… that means 'great happiness'… so you're going to suffer, but you're going to be really happy about it…"
"You need your Inner Eye tested, if you ask me," said Ron. Professor Trelawney looked their way, and Harry waved her over.
"My turn…" Ron said, unaware of Harry's gesture and peering into Harry's teacup, his forehead wrinkled with effort. "There's a blob a bit like a bowler hat," he said. "Maybe you're going to work for the Ministry of Magic…"
He turned the teacup the other way up.
"But this way it looks more like an acorn… What's that?" He scanned his copy of Unfogging the Future." 'A windfall, unexpected gold.' The hell you going to do with that? Hm, and there's a thing here," he turned the cup again, "that looks like an animal… yeah, if that was its head… it looks like a hippo… no, a sheep…"
Professor Trelawney arrived at their table.
"Let me see that, my dear," she said reprovingly to Ron, sweeping over and snatching Harry's cup from him. Everyone went quiet to watch.
Professor Trelawney was staring into the teacup, rotating it counter clockwise.
"The falcon… my dear, you have a deadly enemy."
"But everyone knows that," said Hermione in a loud whisper.
Professor Trelawney stared at her.
"Well, they do," said Hermione. "Everybody knows about Harry and You-Know-Who."
Harry and Ron stared at her with a mixture of amazement and admiration. They had never heard Hermione speak to a teacher like that before. Professor Trelawney chose not to reply. She lowered her huge eyes to Harry's cup again and continued to turn it.
"The club… an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup…"
"I thought that was a bowler hat," said Ron sheepishly.
"The skull… danger in your path, my dear…"
Everyone was staring, transfixed, at Professor Trelawney, who stared into the cup, then unexpectedly dropped it, the delicate china shattering into a hundred pieces. She sank into a vacant armchair, her glittering hand at her heart and her eyes staring across the room. She eventually focused them to search Harry's eyes. Transfixed, Harry sensed the connection between them strengthening.
"You… my boy… but perhaps… no… no, but it's clear, isn't it?"
For a few seconds, the two of them stared into each other's eyes, until, quite unexpectedly, the both of them broke away with a chuckle. The rest of the class stared at them, bewildered.
Harry stared through the floor, trying to organize the sensations he had just encountered and figure out why he was having such a strange response.
"Fascinating…" Professor Trelawney eventually said, who stood and patted Harry on the shoulder. She meant it to look casual, he knew, but clutched his shoulder meaningfully before gliding away. It would have been maybe a little creepy if not for Harry sharing her opinion of the moment. "Continue, class, and do try to tap into the energy that has clearly been manifested in our room this morning."
"That was disappointing," Hermione remarked later as she, Harry, and Ron descended the winding stair. Harry felt her opinion might be skewed by Professor Trelawney's somewhat needless declaration later in the lesson that Hermione's aura did not seem right for Divination.
"Mmm, it was pretty much spot on with my expectations, which by the way were incredibly low," Ron remarked.
Harry stayed quiet, wondering if he needed to say anything. He knew he didn't want to, preferring to process the experience. As they continued in silence towards Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration lesson, Harry turned it all over in his mind. It took them so long to reach her classroom that, early as they had left Divination, they were only just in time.
Harry chose a seat right at the back of the room, still wanting to reflect on what had occurred in Divination. He barely listened to what Professor McGonagall was telling them about Animagi, and was only broken out of his reverie when she transformed herself in front of their eyes into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes.
So, she can do it," Harry thought.
A round of applause erupted from the third years at her transformation, and Harry had to quickly join in as if impressed, his mind already moving on from Divination to try and work out how McGonagall might have been excluded from the new wards preventing Animagus transformations.
When the Transfiguration class had finished, they joined the crowd thundering toward the Great Hall for lunch.
"You all right Harry?" Hermione asked, pulling a dish of stew towards them.
Harry spooned stew onto both of their plates, grinning.
"Yeah. Sorry," he said, aware of how quiet he had been since Divination. "My mind was… well, you know how I sometimes get — just on a train of thought."
Hermione did not appear completely convinced, but nodded anyway and did not mention it again. It helped that Harry kept himself in the moment, knowing that he would have time later to process this all. Still, a part of his mind could not let it go. So, even when he was laughing with the others when Ron, in a sassy back-and-forth with Lavender, had told her to "just eat your boob" instead of "food," he was still thinking about Divination.
As the table sporadically throttled poor Ron with teases (aided by the fact that Lavender's breasts had developed substantially over the summer and had already been a topic of conversation amongst her friends), Hermione took out her Arithmancy book and propped it open against the juice jug.
"I think Divination seems very woolly," she said, searching for her page. "A lot of guesswork, if you ask me."
"It's been proven accurate, if done correctly, and by someone with the ability" Harry said.
"Are you saying I wasn't doing it correctly?" Hermione said a little testily.
"Wha — no!" Harry protested. "I'm saying… it doesn't have as much of a… a learned framework to get someone to become effective at it."
Hermione put her book down and gave him a bewildered look.
"Like with Potions, we learn the basics first year, and then it keeps getting more and more complex as we move on. With Divination, we're diving in headfirst with some concepts that historically are going to only be mastered by those with a certain natural talent, and the rest of us are always going to be fighting to keep up."
Hermione just kept looking at him, her face expressing clear dislike with Harry's point. She wanted to argue against it, but did not seem able to come up with anything.
"How was Arithmancy?" Harry asked as a distraction.
Hermione looked around to make sure no one else was listening, which Harry knew they weren't.
"… I'm taking an independent…" Hermione began, but did not seem able to bring herself to follow through with the lie.
Harry smiled and tapped his finger against the top of her blouse, under which he knew was all the evidence he needed to confirm his suspicions. She looked wide-eyed at him and again looked around to see if anyone was watching them. When she looked back, her face relaxed.
"How did you know?" she asked quietly.
Harry shrugged. "I'd read about their use at Hogwarts, and how it's very rare. McGonagall and Dumbledore must really have a lot of confidence in you."
Harry had seen the little hourglass dangling at the end of a fine chain around Hermione's neck when she had bent over to get her Arithmancy book. It was a Time-Turner, a magical device which could be used by the wearer to travel back in time to be able to do exactly what Hermione was using it to do—experience the same patch of time twice, but in two different locations. Their use was highly regulated by the Ministry and while he shared the professors' confidence in Hermione to adhere to its rules of use, he could not help but to be surprised that a third-year had been lent one.
"You can't tell anyone," Hermione said, moving closer to Harry and whispering in a barely-audible voice.
"I know that!" Harry said too loudly. A few people glanced their way. "You didn't have to tell me that," he added in a whisper.
"Sorry," Hermione said, gathering her wits. "It's been a long day."
He nodded his understanding; by now Hermione had relived the same hour of her day three times over.
"But why don't you have one?" she asked him.
Harry shrugged. "They never offered one, although I was the one who proposed the independent study, so I guess there really wasn't any need."
"I probably should have thought of that, too," Hermione said absently. "But Professor Vector does seem to try to make it really interesting…"
Harry was pleased to get out of the castle after lunch. Yesterday's rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale Gray, and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they set off for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class.
The teasing of Ron had subsided by now, and it was an uneventful walk down the sloping lawns to Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was only when he spotted three only-too-familiar backs ahead of them that Harry realized they must be having these lessons with the Slytherins. Malfoy was talking animatedly to Crabbe and Goyle, who were chortling. Harry inwardly shook his head at them, wondering how the three of them could be taken seriously by any of the rest of the Slytherins.
Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang the boarhound at his heels, looking impatient to start.
"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"
Hagrid led them around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.
"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it — make sure yeh can see — now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books —"
"How?" said the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.
"Eh?" said Hagrid.
"How do we open our books?" Malfoy repeated. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Other Slytherins took theirs out too; some had belted their book shut; others had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips.
A few Gryffindors took theirs out and calmly opened their books, prompting some insecure looks from the Slytherins.
"You stroke the spine," Harry said in a helpful tone to Pansy Parkinson, walking to stand next to her and running his finger down her book, which shivered slightly and then relaxed open.
"Oh… thanks," Pansy said, a flush blossoming on her neck.
Harry had shared the technique with the other Gryffindors during the train ride. He had assumed word would spread to the other third years, but seeing some of the usually-arrogant Slytherins now look like they felt inferior made him glad it hadn't.
"Righ' then," said Hagrid, "so yeh've got yer books an' so open to chapter twelve. We're gonna be studyin' hippogriffs, first off…"
Hagrid went on to describe the hippogriff, a magical creature very much akin to a cross between a horse and a falcon. He spent a couple of minutes covering the basics of interacting and caring for the creatures before leading the class behind his shed.
"God, this place is going to the dogs," said Malfoy as they walked. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him —"
Wandlessly, Harry cast an Impediment jinx at Malfoy's ankles, which caused Draco to trip and fall on his face into the soft earth behind Hagrid's hut. The kerfuffle that caused was muted by the response of the class at seeing what Hagrid had intended to show them.
"Oooooooh!" squealed Lavender Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.
Trotting toward them were a dozen of a collection of the most bizarre creatures many of them had ever seen. The animals had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-coloured beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.
"Gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone else drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence. Harry stayed his ground, feeling decidedly unhappy about the collars around the creatures' necks. When he reached out with his senses, his discomfort was doubled by the feel of how much the hippogriffs disliked being tethered like this. Only when Harry got a sense of how uncommon it was for Hagrid to do so did Harry settle down. Yes — they were quite content under Hagrid's care, as a matter of fact, and were only secured like this for their initial introduction, which Harry had to admit was definitely a smart safety choice on Hagrid's part.
"Beau'iful, aren' they?" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them.
Harry breathed a contented sigh, and fell back in line with the rest of the class, at least mentally, at enjoying the sight of the hippogriffs. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different colour: stormy Gray, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.
"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer —"
No one seemed to want to, but Harry urged Ron and Hermione closer to the fence.
"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle weren't listening; they were talking in an undertone and Harry had a nasty feeling they were plotting how best to disrupt the lesson.
"Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt. Right — who wants ter go first?"
Most of the class backed farther away in answer. The hippogriffs were becoming impatient with the collars, tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings.
"I'll do it," said Harry.
"All right!" Hagrid shouted encouragingly.
Harry hopped over the paddock fence.
"Be careful," he heard Hermione whisper as he walked closer to the hippogriffs.
"Right then — let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak," Hagrid said encouragingly.
He untied one of the chains, pulled the Gray hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. Malfoy's eyes were narrowed maliciously.
"Easy, now, Harry," said Hagrid quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink… Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much…"
Harry kept his eyes focused on the hippogriff, communicating his intentions. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was staring at Harry with one fierce orange eye.
"Tha's it," said Hagrid. "Tha's it, Harry… now, bow…"
Harry let his eyes linger on Buckbeak's for one moment longer, until… there. Harry smiled, and gave a deep bow. He heard an intake of breath from everyone watching, Hagrid included, when Buckbeak not only dipped his own head in a bow, but gently tapped the back of Harry's with his beak, his breath surprisingly strong as it blasted at his hair.
"Well done, Harry!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right — yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"
Harry had already moved to do as much, patting the beak several times and then moving to the feathers just behind it. Buckbeak the hippogriff closed his eyes lazily, enjoying Harry's attention.
The class broke into applause, all except for Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were looking deeply disappointed.
"Righ' then, Harry," said Hagrid. "I reckon he might' let yeh ride him. Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," said Hagrid, "an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that…"
This was what Harry had expected, and he grabbed onto Buckbeak's mane, taking care not to upset the Hippogriff. He put his foot on the top of Buckbeak's wing and hoisted himself onto his back. Buckbeak stood up. Harry shifted his weight, feeling Buckbeak's comfort with him up there, and already getting his fingers between the feathers, thinking about where he would need to hold on if Buckbeak took to the air, which Harry was almost certain he was about to do.
"Go on, then!" roared Hagrid, slapping the hippogriff 's hindquarters.
Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry and they were soaring upward. It would not be Harry's first choice for method of flight, as no matter how well he adjusted himself, he was getting rocked back and forth rather violently, and really had nowhere good to try and secure his feet.
Buckbeak flew him once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground; Harry leaned back as the smooth neck lowered, abandoning his initial instinct to use their momentum to flip himself off over Buckbeak's head, thinking it would be far too showoff-ish. Instead, he felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground, and he pushed himself straight again.
"Good work, Harry!" roared Hagrid as everyone except Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle cheered. "Okay, who else wants a go?"
Emboldened by Harry's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously all over the paddock. Harry was pleased to feel the hippogriffs' relief at being freed, as well as their enjoyment of so many respectful students interested in their attention.
Neville was something of an outlier, running repeatedly backward from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees to the nervous Gryffindor. Ron and Hermione practiced on the chestnut, while Harry watched.
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful.
"This is very easy," Malfoy drawled, clearly wanting Harry to hear him. "I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it… I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the hippogriff. "Are you, you great ugly brute?"
It happened in a flash of steely talons; Malfoy's taunt had so enraged Buckbeak that he had been about to attack the ridiculous third-year, but Harry reached out with his magic just before he did, sympathizing with Buckbeak's urge to attack in the face of such offense, but not wanting Hagrid's first lesson to end in disaster.
Buckbeak performed a threatening move in Malfoy's direction, but stopped himself. Malfoy jumped at the movement and fell backwards into the mud yet again. At first there was a gasp from anyone watching, but when Buckbeak simply walked away, it was laughter that ensued, most of it from the Gryffindors, but Harry saw a few Slytherins trying to hide their amusement.
Harry came up with several snarky remarks, but in the end decided to just shake his head and ignore Malfoy, walking over to where Hermione was now sitting atop the chestnut hippogriff. He bowed and communicated with the chestnut, who had become a little anxious at Malfoy's little incident.
"Easy," Harry said to the chestnut — a female, which Harry knew were somewhat more guarded than the males. It took her a few moments longer to trust Harry than Buckbeak had, but it was also a stronger connection Harry felt once she did. In fact, after several seconds of her twisting her head into his pats with increasing vigour, she began squawking at Harry, trying to move him closer to her.
"Okay! Okay!" Harry said, raising his eyebrows at an increasingly distraught-looking Hermione, who was holding on for dear life.
"Should I get off?" Hermione asked, looking around for Hagrid, who Harry saw was taking five points from Slytherin and assigning Malfoy homework on the importance of showing respect to magical creatures.
"No — she wants me to join you," Harry told Hermione, already moving to pull himself up.
"What?" Hermione squealed, but Harry was already sliding in behind her.
It was only once he did so that he thought about how close he would be to Hermione, enough so that it may very well make her uncomfortable. He had pressed ahead with the hippogriff's wishes without even thinking to consult Hermione.
"Oh, erm… is this all right?" he asked, unsure of what to do with his hands.
The chestnut began trotting happily like a show horse, which caused Hermione to release an "eek" and use one hand to pull each of Harry's around her so that his arms were pinning hers to her side. He grabbed onto the chestnut's feathers in front of Hermione, effectively securing her in place.
"It's fine — just don't let go!" she said loudly.
Harry smiled and pressed himself tightly against Hermione as he felt the chestnut preparing to take flight.
"Here we go," he said.
"Oh… oh! OH!" Hermione squealed as their hippogriff flapped her wings and they ascended into the air.
The chestnut seemed to have no problem with their combined weight, flying somewhat differently than Buckbeak but no less impressively.
"I wonder what's for dinner," Harry said casually into Hermione's ear.
"Shut up! Don't let go of me!" Hermione said in a rush. "Sorry! I didn't mean shut up, but don't get distracted!"
"Distracted from what?" Harry asked. "Oh, I forgot — we're on a hippogriff!" he joked.
"Why are we going so hiiiiiiiiigh?" Hermione shrieked as the chestnut had now soared twice as high as Buckbeak, out over the lake.
Harry connected with the hippogriff, confirming that everything was fine, which it was. He laughed.
"I… I think she likes it when you scream — and I'm not teasing you — she likes the sound, so she keeps doing things that make them come out of you," he explained.
"Oh fuck me," Hermione snapped, and Harry laughed for a long time, having never heard Hermione use such language.
She managed to control her reactions for the rest of their flight, and before long they were back on the ground.
"That was hilarious," Ron said against a good amount of cheers and shouts. "I bet they could hear you screaming from the castle!"
"Shut up, Ron," Hermione said, but her tone conveyed an understanding of his amusement. She turned to Harry. "I blame you," she said, looking at him, then in a rush added, "but I know that doesn't make any sense so I'm sorry I blame you but I still blame you."
She then walked away to join the other Gryffindor girls, another uncharacteristic action from Hermione, leaving Harry feeling a bit bewildered. Ron stood alongside him, watching with Harry as she walked away. He gave Harry an unconcerned shrug which, somehow, wiped any further thought about it from Harry's mind. He returned the shrug, and they joined the class for the rest of the lesson.