Disclaimer: Sybill Trelawney belongs to JK Rowling.

Chapter 10: Trelawney

Halloween

When Aurora passed the book on to Sybill Trelawney, she thought she could just hear Minerva mutter, "Merlin help us," and she didn't think it was about the prospect of Minerva herself being fired.

"Oh, Halloween," Sybill said in her ethereal voice. "It is fitting that I was fated to read this. It is a time of restless spirits and dark signs portending grave danger—"

"Sybill, you should probably just get on with it," Minerva interrupted.

"Hmpf. Fine," she grumbled.

Things seemed to be calmer for the younger Harry after the Cerberus incident, although he continued to speculate on what it was guarding. ("Clearly an artifact that will bring a dark curse on his head," Sybill said.) He did, however, get to show up Malfoy (and Hermione) with his new broomstick and try it out in Quidditch practice.

Hermione was more certain than ever that the book had been written for a muggle audience when it spent several pages explaining the rules of Quidditch. "No book written for wizards would bother doing that," she insisted. "Wizarding children learn the rules from the cradle, just like football in the muggle world."

"Could be written for muggle-borns, though," Harry said.

"It's possible, but I doubt it. Most muggle-borns would learn about Quidditch from their peers before they read a book about it."

"Yeah, but it's a book about me, though."

Hermione looked at Harry strangely. He wasn't normally at all big-headed. "What does that have to do with anything?" she asked.

"Hermione, you read three books about me before we even met."

She groaned while her friends chuckled. "Okay, I admit it. I'm not normal," she said. "Most muggle-borns would probably still get it from their peers first. I think this book was written for muggles."

"But what does that mean?" Harry said. "Next year, some muggle writer is going to publish my life story as a fantasy book, and somehow, a copy's going to be sent back in time?"

"Hold on." Hermione discreetly cast a Muffling Charm that Sirius had told Harry about last night. "Maybe…" she said. "But I was thinking maybe you would."

"Me? What?"

"Look, we already have the book—or Umbridge does, at least. No one has to actually write it. Someone here in the Great Hall could just publish it as is. But you should be the one to do it, Harry. You should have the rights to your own life story."

"What if I don't want to, though?"

"That's your decision, of course, but…I think you might need to."

"Need to? Why?"

"Remember third year?" Hermione said. "The time turner? Oh, God, that's probably going to be revealed too, isn't it? This is such a mess. But listen, at the time, I was so hung up on not breaking the rules of time travel that I didn't notice what happened was actually a closed time loop. You saw yourself cast the Patronus Charm to save you and Sirius, which is what inspired you to run out and cast it when we went back in time."

"Meaning…I need to publish this book to make sure it exists so that it can be sent back in time for Umbridge to read it to us?"

"Exactly. And if it helps us stop Voldemort, it could be really important."

"Alright, but how do we get our hands on a copy? Umbridge is gonna take it back when they're done for the day, isn't she."

"Yes, but I'm sure there are ways around that. Fred and George can probably do it."

"Of course. Why didn't we think of that yesterday?" Harry said.

"I don't know, but it'll be easy for those two." Hermione dropped the spell and called to them: "Psst. Fred, George…"

"'I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons,'" Trelawney read in the meantime. "Oh, but Mr. Potter is not fated for this. Disaster follows him even in the air—"

"Sybill!" McGonagall hissed.

Trelawney had apparently forgotten that Harry was now supposed to live a long life, become Minister for Magic, and have twelve children, and was back to her old tricks. She also had to be reminded to keep reading rather than extemporising on the text. The story skipped ahead two months to Halloween, when they began to learn levitation in charms class.

"Oh no," Ron groaned, and his head dropped to the table, knowing what was coming next.

Hermione patted his back: "Ron, that was years ago. You know I forgave you for that a long time ago."

"I know, but I still don't like remembering it," he said. "Plus everyone will know what an arse I was."

"Too late for that," Ginny said cheekily.

"Oi!"

Sure enough, more than a few people glared at Ron when he was described insulting Hermione and making her cry. Hermione tried to defend him, but she couldn't say too much without the teachers noticing. Hermione actually skipped her afternoon classes in the book, she spent so long crying in the bathroom, much to her chagrin now.

"Was it really that bad?" asked Ginny, who hadn't been seen it firsthand.

"I was dealing with a lot of other stuff just then," Hermione said. "I'd always had trouble making friends, and I had hoped the magical world would be someplace I could finally fit in, and it…it just wasn't."

"Oh, sorry. I'm glad things got better for you."

"'Troll—in the dungeons—'" Trelawney recited loudly. "'Thought you ought to know.' And death comes to Hogwarts. Truly, someone will not survive this night."

"Sybill, that's not what happened," McGonagall said. "Just keep reading."

The report of the troll caused panic, but Dumbledore had things under control: "'Prefects,' he rumbled, 'lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!'"

A queer look crossed Hermione's face. "But where did the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins go, then?" she asked.

"Don't know. Don't remember that much," Harry said.

Hermione was surprised how easy a time Harry had of convincing Ron to go look for her in the book. They hadn't really said anything about that at the time. They broke off and had just noticed Snape suspiciously headed for the third floor instead of the dungeons when they stumbled upon the troll…and locked it in the girls' bathroom.

"You locked it in there with me?" she hissed.

"Heh heh…didn't we ever mention that to you?" Ron said with a nervous grin.

"You git!" She smacked his arm. "I thought I was gonna die—Wait, the key was in the lock? It had a lock? What?"

"I dunno; that's what happened," he said.

Hermione frowned deeply and added to her list:

8. Why was the key in the lock of the girl's bathroom?

9. Why did the bathroom lock at all from the outside? (Sabotage?)

"The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Harry. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went. Oh, it is a terrible fate: the Boy-Who-Lived doomed to die at the hands of a savage beast!"

"Sybill, Mr. Potter is not about to die in the story," McGonagall snapped, pointing at the Gryffindor Table. "He's sitting right there!"

Many of the students laughed. However, Trelawney just looked annoyed, as did her fans, especially Parvati and Lavender, who were glaring at everybody else.

"You see, Minister?" Umbridge said. "This is why I've been recommending we get rid of her. She must be completely incompetent if she's 'predicting' that one of Hogwarts' current students has already died."

Trelawney looked appalled. "I can only report what the Inner Eye Sees," she said. "And I have Seen Mr. Potter's death many times."

"Actually, that's worryingly accurate," McGonagall pointed out half-seriously. "With the history he's had, Mr. Potter should be dead many times over by now."

"That doesn't excuse the fact that he's still alive," Umbridge said, and she cast a glance at Harry that made sure he caught the double meaning. "No, we can't overlook a failure this egregious. Professor Trelawney, I'm afraid we will no longer require your services here."

"No! No, please!" Trelawney gasped, rising to her feet. "Hogwarts is my home! Where will I go?"

"That is not my concern."

"Oh, have a heart, Dolores," McGonagall snapped. "Sybill, you'll stay right here."

"Excuse me, Professor McGonagall," Umbridge said. "You don't have the authority—"

"I have the only authority, Dolores. You may be in charge of hiring now, but guests to the castle still fall under the approval of the Acting Headmistress, and if Sybill wants to stay, I say she can stay as long as she wants."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, Minerva!" Trelawney reached over and clung to McGonagall like a drowning women.

"There, there, Sybill," McGonagall said, patting her on the back. "Let's get you up to your quarters. You don't need to deal with this." She started to escort her away.

"Be careful, Professor McGonagall," Umbridge said threateningly. "Your own capital is wearing thin."

"I'll take my chances," she said, and with that, she and Trelawney left the Great Hall. The book was still lying open at Trelawney's place setting.

"Well, then," Umbridge said haughtily. "Professor Burbage, I believe you were next. Would you care to finish Professor Trelawney's chapter?"

"What, now?" Charity Burbage demanded.

"No time like the present." Umbridge drew the wand and levitated the book over to her.

Burbage took the book whilst muttering something very uncouth under her breath and found the place again: "'Oy, pea-brain!' yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it."

Harry's and Ron's attempts to distract the troll had little effect. Harry jumped on the troll's back and accidentally stuck his wand up its nose, much to the horror (and some laughter) of his classmates, but it only succeeded in nearly getting him killed. It wasn't until Ron managed to levitate its club and drop it on its head that it was subdued.

And Professor Flitwick smacked his palm to his forehead. "Mr. Weasley used the very spell he failed to perform in class?" he said. "And on a target that was as large as he was, and with a bad wand? I'm not sure whether I want to reward him or give him detention. Outstanding for effort and spellcasting, but Dreadful for planning and critical thinking."

Ron turned red and sank in his seat at the Gryffidor Table. Despite his pride at pulling off difficult magic like that, he was mortified to remember how bad an idea that had been at the time.

McGonagall seemed to have much the same idea when she appeared in the story. Fortunately, Hermione covered for them.

"'I went looking for the troll because I—I thought I could deal with it on my own—you know, because I'd read all about them.'

"Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?"

Hermione blushed deeply, even though she'd done far worse since then. She was getting a little worried about what was coming later in the book. And after that, second year could get her in a lot of trouble if they actually got to it, although Umbridge and Fudge should be pretty solidly discredited by the end of first year—she hoped.

"Bloody Gryffindors," Snape spoke up. "I hope you realise, Miss Granger, that Professor McGonagall and I saw through your patently transparent lie at once, which is the only reason you weren't punished more severely. If a first-year student deliberately went after a mountain troll, they would lose far more than five points if they survived."

"It was a pretty bad lie," Hermione muttered to herself. "I knew it was even then. I would've known at the start I stood no chance against a troll."

"Yeah, but still, thanks for covering for us," Harry said.

"I agree with me," Ron said. "We should've got more than ten points."

Hermione slapped him on the back of the head. "What you should have done was tell a prefect there was a student missing and where. They could have handled it much better."

"We still saved your life, though," Ron said.

"Yes, thank you for that," she admitted. "After you locked me in there with it."

"But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them."

"You know, that night turned out pretty well," Harry agreed.

"You remember that night very differently than I do," Hermione deadpanned. "I seem to remember several days of very awkward conversations before we talked through what happened, and we all decided each other weren't so bad after all."

"Well, yes, there was that too," he said.

Professor McGonagall returned to the Great Hall, having conveyed Trelawney up to her quarters. "Well, that's half a crisis averted," she said. "Did I miss anything important?"

Flitwick filled her in: "Only Mr. Weasley defeating the troll in a way that really shouldn't have worked and Miss Granger lying badly to cover up the fact that it was his fault they were in that situation in the first place. In other words, typical Gryffindor madness."

"I'd take issue with that Filius, but unfortunately, with those three, it's completely accurate," she replied.