Disclaimer: Obviously, I am not the wonderful J.K Rowling. If I was, the Harry Potter series would not be nearly as amazing as it is. :)
Summary:
Many members of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry thought Professor Sybil Trelawney to be reclusive, a bumbling fool, who got her jollies from frightening the students who dared to take her Divination class. Well, two out of three isn't bad.
A Seer, Indeed:
Thick, billowing plumes of fragrant smoke rose from the incense that covered almost every surface in the divination classroom of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The smoke could be clearly seen floating throughout the dark, musty air, lazily spreading its way about the room. Unfortunately, this included the slight woman who sat in a comfortable armchair sipping tea with a thick tome spread open across her lap. She was so transfixed in the book that she failed to notice the perfume heading her way before it was too late.
Her concentration was completely halted as she took a deep breath, inhaling the foul air. As she erupted into a massive coughing fit, the tea she had yet to finish fell from her hand in a crash, spilling the remains on the floor surrounding her. She paid the broken cup no attention, however, as she was far more concentrated on breathing in clean oxygen, and willing her eyes to stop their infernal watering.
"Blasted incense," Sybill cursed, waving feebly at the smoke, knowing it would be of no use. "Just one year without it is all I ask." She sighed deeply, thankful the incense had passed onto another area in the room. While Sybil loved her job as a Professor of divination at Hogwarts, the nasty odor was just one of the many downsides.
She placed her arms on the armrests and hauled herself from the cushy seat, only to watch hopelessly as the tome she had been so immersed in fell to the floor, landing with a heavy thud. Sybill groaned angrily, leaning down to grab it before throwing it upon her desk in frustration. She would like at least one year to have a good start, without a mess, headache, or her bloody allergies kicking in. A year of peace, without having to keep up an act she dreaded most of the time.
Oh, sure, it was fun when there were others around to bother, such as her students, but when she was alone, the façade was hard to keep up. Hell, Minerva was more entertaining than sitting in this danky old room that smelled horrible and was so dark it took only minutes for a migraine to appear. However, she had to keep up her appearances to keep her job, and smoke be damned, her job was worth far too much to risk.
No, Sybill Trelawney was not the batty old woman most people assumed her to be. Actually, the only remaining people alive who could truly say they knew her would be Albus Dumbledore, Pomona Sprout, and her mother. You see, Sybill was well aware of the fact that she had hardly any aptitude in the art of divination. Just because her great-great grandmother Cassandra had skill in that area, does not mean Sybill was so lucky. To be perfectly honest, she was not even sure she believed in divination, let alone being a Seer.
In all actuality, she was a practical woman, which was the reason she ever landed this job. Being average in every subject she had taken at Hogwarts, receiving mainly A's on her NEWTs, she wasn't exactly sought after when it came to working. Hogwarts was a last resort to her, which she finally decided to pursue about thirteen years before.
Voldemort had been becoming worse than he, or any other wizard, had ever been, and the only safe place left in the entire Wizarding World was Hogwarts, so naturally, that was where witches and wizards flocked to. For a half-blood like herself, Sybill knew that it was one of her last chances of survival. She was extraordinarily lucky that the one remaining position without a teacher was divination. After all, she did have her great-great grandmother Cassandra on her side…
But her meeting with Dumbledore had not gone as smoothly as she had anticipated. He had wanted proof of her "ability," which she, of course, had not been able to give, even though she had tried as hard as she could to summon a vision. Hell, thinking back, Sybill was surprised she didn't cause herself an aneurysm.
Dumbledore, like the aging man he was, was slowly pulling himself up from table at the Hog's Head, his beard landing in Sybill's half-filled cup of tea during the process, when her memory turned black. As soon as her senses returned, and she got over the shock of seeing Dumbledore's face filled with such surprise and horror, she knew exactly what had happened. After all, seeing was a popular subject in the Trelawney family, and the look on Dumbledore's face afterwards was a dead giveaway to what she had just accomplished. Her only regret was that she had no idea what she had prophesized about. All Dumbledore informed her of was that the prophecy had something to do with Voldemort, but if she knew anymore she would be at unnecessary risk. And as curious as she was about the whole subject, she never complained. After all, that night was the only time luck had ever been on her side.
Before leaving the bar, Dumbledore had offered Sybill the divination position right there, and how could she refuse? It was what she had been hoping for since she owled the Headmaster weeks before. Luckily, within days she was safe and secure at Hogwarts, planning for her first year as a Professor.
But Sybill would definitely agree that teaching was not as she had expected. In order to keep up her act as a Seer, she had to act as she imagined a Seer to be. It was fun for her to dress up all gaudy with her overlarge shawl, noisy, colorful bangles, and comical magnifying glasses that had no effect on her vision whatsoever, but the fact remained that she was not a Seer, something the students were easily able to pick up on within days after listening to her half-arsed prophecies. Soon, Sybill had just decided she was going to have fun with teaching, consequences be damned.
She knew that hardly anyone in all of Hogwarts took her seriously, and those who did were absolute dimwits, but every year she would act as absurd and outlandish as she could, choosing a new student that she would spend every class period making predictions about, all the way from what tea they would choose to drink that afternoon at lunch, to how they were going to die, making each prediction crazier than the last. She was honestly surprised that Dumbledore never called her out on it, but then again she supposed he needn't have cared. It was not as if seeing was a very popular career choice anymore.
Sybill walked over to a mirror she kept hidden behind a curtain on the wall behind her desk, making sure she avoided all the chairs littering the floor. She once had a nasty fall concerning a few of those blasted chairs, and she was not going to let it happen again. It's very difficult trying to climb down all the steps from her classroom with a broken arm, especially when everyone who passes by avoids her like the plague.
As she looked at the face peering back at her over those huge monstrosities she wore around her eyes, she let out a little sigh. Surprisingly, she used to be a fairly attractive person: good bone structure, doe-like eyes, soft brown ringlet curls that framed her face. Now, however, her looks consisted of frizzed up hair that looked as if it had not been brushed in weeks, eyes that had long since become sunken in, and a face that now appeared quite hollow. She was not the woman she used to be, but that was her choice.
A small buzz of voices from below her interrupted her silent musings, and a smirk appeared across her thin lips. Today was her favorite day of the year. Today was the first day, the day that she could intimidate and frighten the Third Years, without them knowing what a fraud she was. And she knew exactly who she was going to choose the year to make the first death prediction on. After all, who would be a better choice than the one boy who was already marked as dead by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?
As Sybill Trelawney lifted her wand to open the door to her classroom, allowing the small, meek students to enter, she smiled wildly, thinking of all she could do to scare the young Mr. Potter. After all, why should she not?
It was not as if she knew that she was the woman who had uttered the prophecy that had set in motion the chain of events which led to Voldemort's first downfall. It was not as if she knew that she, Sybill Trelawney, had forever changed the life of Harry James Potter.
A/N: And there you have it, my first published one-shot in the world of Harry Potter! If you don't mind, leave a review and tell me what you thought, even if you hated it. :] It'll help me determine whether I'd ever publish something again. xD
I feel so accomplished!