Lily Evans hated Divination with all her heart and soul. She despised the hours spent in the stuffy Divination room, it's fumes making her feel stupid and sleepy, and Professor Kitbridge was the foulest old fraud she'd ever met, but it wasn't just those things. She could deal with Professor Kitbridge's ridiculous proclamations, she could live with the silly girls she shared the class with mooning over the crystal balls, claiming to see themselves dating Sirius Black in the future. No, what Lily hated the most about Divination was that James Potter, the bane of her existence, sat next to her every single class.

"Alright, Evans?" the loathsome boy asked her one autumn morning, slamming his books on the table as he made himself comfortable in the wing chair adjacent to hers. Lily winced as the books hit the wood as if he'd been throwing them at her rather than the table in front of them.

"Fine," she sniffed, a note of finality in her voice. She was hoping that would be it, the end of the conversation for that day, but James was not to be deterred.

"How'd you do on that Potions test?" he asked, propping his feet on the table. "That Slughorn's a piece of work, I tell you." Lily scoffed.

"What, did you fail again?"

"Not quite."

"Well, I got perfect."

"Bully for you."

Lily smiled. Yes, James Potter, she thought to herself, bully for me, indeed. She was about to say something biting in return, continuing their rally of quips and insults, but was interrupted by the arrival of Professor Kitridge.

The old woman swooped into the classroom, her large purple poncho clashing violently with her orange hair, a number of gaudy fake pearl necklaces strung around her neck. "Hello, children!" she cried, using the false- sounding, jolly voice that she liked to employ when not pretending to make predictions. "Do you feel the magical vibrations in the air today, children? It will be a great lesson today, I can feel it!"

Next to her, James Potter was sniggering furiously. Lily bit back a smile.

"...as Saturn is in the twelfth- Mr. Potter would you pay attention at once?" Professor Kitridge had, it seemed, noticed James' incessant laughter. James at once ceased laughing, but a telltale smirk still played upon his lips, making the professor angrier than ever. "I see!" she proclaimed, striding over to their table. "Well, why don't I just tell the class what the future has in store for you then, Mr. Potter!"

It was Lily's turn to snigger. Whenever their Divination professor was angry with a student, it was customary for her to "see" something extraordinarily embarrassing in that student's future.

"My Inner Eye is opening," Professor Kitridge was narrating in a spectacularly false voice, "I am seeing something... I am seeing... love." The girls in the class instantly began chattering amongst themselves. "I am seeing a red- headed girl..." Lily was suddenly the victim of more glaring than any teenaged girl should ever be forced to endure. "I am seeing true love... this year... and initials!" The girls of the class became silent, all straining to hear the initials of James Potter's true love. From their seat in corner, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin sniggered. "L. P.!" the professor proclaimed. "The initials of your true love, Mr. Potter, are L. P.."

Whatever response the professor had been expecting from James Potter, it wasn't the one she got.

"Right," James laughed, "and you're a thestral!" James, Sirius and Remus were roaring with laughter, and slowly the rest of the class joined in, too, save for Lily. She just rolled her eyes and began work on a Transfiguration essay ("explain in detail the restrictions set by the Minstry of Magic in 1632 in regards to animal transfiguration, and the cases in which it is not acceptable"), trying desperately hard to ignore the sound of James Potter's obnoxious laugh. She sighed in frustration and shot him a few well- aimed glares, all of them unnoticed by James. He was, she decided, the world's biggest prat.

The rest of the class progressed as it normally did. Professor Kitridge set them a ridiculous assignment ("please predict the color of the eyes of the next horse you encounter, with proof from your divination textbook"), James Potter did his best to flirt with her, and Lily pointedly ignored him while wondering why on earth she'd ever taken this class.

"The eyes of the next horse I meet will be brown," James was saying, "because I dislike toadstool soup, which means I won't be meeting a horse until next February, at which time Mercury will be aligned with Venus, which means I will have great fortune."

"Why does that mean the horse's eyes will be brown?" Lily scoffed.

"Because brown is a lucky colour for people born in September," James answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"That makes no sense," Lily spat at him. "None of that makes any sense."

"Doesn't have to," James told her, "it's Divination." Lily merely shook her head, relishing the thought of James Potter failing an assignment because of his arrogance, hoping she'd be there to see it.

And then, as if reading Lily's mind, Professor Kitridge made her way towards Lily and James' table.

"How are we getting along over here?" the professor asked, snatching up Lily's incomplete prediction. "Any questions?"

"None at all," Lily answered, grabbing her predictions back. The professor gave her a cool glare before turning to James and grabbing his parchment. As she read it, her eyes got wider and wider until-

"James Potter," Lily smiled expectantly. Here it is... "You are a-" stupid idiot who cares only for himself, Lily thought. "Genius!" Lily was about to laugh, but stopped herself once the words registered. Genius?

"I don't usually teach the importance of food preferences affecting fortunes until seventh year, well done!" Professor Kitridge was nearly dancing with happiness. "This is absolutely spot- on! You're quite right, if you did like toadstool soup it would change the outcome of this particular prediction entirely! And how you knew that Mercury and Venus would be aligned..." the professor cut off, shaking her head dazedly. "My dear," she said, smiling fondly at James, "I may have underestimated you. You may very well have the gift."

James fought very hard to keep a straight face. "You might be right, Professor," he agreed. "You might be right."

"It is a very heavy load to bear, being able to see what is yet to come," the professor informed him. "Mind you don't go astray."

"I'll keep that in mind," he told her gravely. "I'll never forget it."

Professor Kitridge smiled at him, tears in her eyes. She patted him clumsily on the cheek and returned his paper to him almost reverently, as if she were scared it would shatter upon hitting the table. "By the by, Miss Evans," she said, turning to Lily, "your prediction is a little off. You've predicted Mars will be in the fifth house, which is quite untrue, and it will ruin your prediction. I suggest you ask Mr. Potter for help, I'm sure he'd oblige you."

Lily gritted her teeth and ripped her parchment in half. She could feel James' eyes on her, but couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Yeah, Evans," he quipped, "I'd be glad to oblige you."

Lily wanted to scream.