Parts of this chapter are directly quoted and properly cited from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.
I noticed some of you saying Lupin is irresponsible for showing a boggart, but I have to disagree. He doesn't force them to face the boggart in class and he finds out Neville's worst fear before talking him through with how to face it. I guarantee that if Neville's worst fear was Bellatrix Lestrange he would've chosen somebody else. The reason why it's better to learn how to face a boggart when you're 13-17 when fears are tangible rather than when you're an adult and fears are more abstract. Yes, boggarts are faced for finals, but I also guarantee that if someone knew what their boggart was that he would exempt them from that section.
But I digress.
Care and Keeping of Magical Creatures was absolutely, positively dull compared to their first class. Hagrid was shaken by what happened to Draco and ended up bringing something totally boring. Flobberworms. They were as stupid and boring as they sounded and the goal for the class was to shove lettuce down their throats with a toothpick.
"Can't believe this," Ron muttered. "Wanted to ride a Hippogriff like you two."
"Does it hurt Draco?" Pansy simpered.
"A little," said Draco, adjusting the strap on his unnecessary sling. "Barely made it out with my life."
Bullllll shit.
"Yeah and because of your stupid stunt, we're stuck with these," Lavender growled, throwing her toothpick down.
"I did us a favor!"
"You didn't do shit," muttered Ernie Macmillan.
"Class dismissed," said Hagrid, dully.
Since Ron was already taking Study of Ancient Runes and Care and Keeping of Magical Creatures, he couldn't take Divination. Harry didn't want to take Runes and he knew Hermione would put him through hell for taking Muggle Studies when he lived in the muggle world most of his life, so he was stuck with Care and Keeping of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, and Divination.
There was just one problem. On Mondays, Ancient Runes and Divination were at the same time. It was going to be Hermione's first time using the time turner.
Thanks to her handy dandy map, Hermione and Harry found their way to the North Tower. It was quite a trek, eight stories around a dizzying set of white stairs. Following them was a painting of grass and Sir Cadogan's speckled gray pony, the Knight nowhere to be found.
Finally, finally, finally they made it to the top of the North Tower. They found Sir Cadogan in a stained-glass window, the opposing art styles making Hermione a bit dizzier than the staircase. The murmur of voices overhead told them that they reached the classroom.
They made the last few steps onto a landing where the rest of the class stood looking up at the ceiling. There was a circular trap door there with the words 'Sybill Trelawney, Divination teacher' on a bronze plaque.
"Sybill Trelawney, Divination teacher," said Harry. "How are we supposed to get up there?"
"Carefully," Hermione joked, but nobody laughed. They were focused on a silver ladder that made its way down from the ceiling. It landed in front of Harry.
"After you," said Seamus with a grin.
What if she had a disabled student who couldn't climb ladders much less that never-ending staircase? Hogwarts was not disability friendly.
Hermione scaled up after Harry and emerged into the strangest-looking classroom she 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. (Prisoner, 101)
When Professor Trelawney made her appearance, Hermione was reminded of an insect with her large glasses, thin arms, and even her many beaded necklaces sounded like clamoring beetles. She spoke in a voice almost like Luna's, but somehow it was harsher. Perhaps even jaded.
She, Harry, and Neville sat at one of the low round tables. Hermione sneezed a little at the heady smell of incense and Professor Trelawney turned toward her.
"Books will not help you here…"
Harry turned to grin at her, but her thoughts were already occupied with how wrong she was about this class. She thought that they'd be learning the theory of Divination, for surely not everybody had the sight and this lesson would just be more like a psychology class. Theory and memorization not… guessing.
"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." (Prisoner, 104).
Hermione made a face. Anybody could predict that Neville would have broken a teacup. The boy was clumsier than a bull in a china shop, except when it came to Herbology. She, herself, chose two Lucinda tea cups and saucers then went back to Harry. They did as was instructed and made a face at the type of tea used.
"I'd say it tastes like hot leaf water," said Harry, turning his cup upside down. "But that's what all tea is."
Pressing a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles, Hermione pulled out her textbook and flipped to pages five and six. She and Harry swapped cups and peered inside. All Hermione saw was just splotches of tea leaves, but she'd be damned if she wasn't going to try.
"You first," she said.
"I see splotches of tea leaves in your future," he deadpanned.
"Try and take it seriously," she said, trying not to giggle.
"Right, you've got a crooked sort of cross . . ." He looked into Unfogging the Future. "That means you're going to have 'trials and suffering' —sorry about that —but there's a thing that could be the sun . . . hang on . . . that means 'great happiness' . . . so you're going to suffer but be very happy. . . ."
"I think we need to switch cups, Harry," she said. "That one obviously belongs to you."
He snorted loudly and quickly ducked his head when Professor Trelawney looked at them.
Hermione looked into the cup and hummed. "Okay, this kind of looks like a hand… or maybe a giraffe. This little splotch looks like a greater than sign — that's for… greater than. I'm sorry, all I can focus on now is the giraffe."
"Let me see that dear," said Professor Trelawney. Everybody watched at she carefully turned it counter clockwise.
"A falcon… my dear you have a great enemy."
Oh, you have got to be kidding.
"Everybody knows all that," she said, her mouth running away from her. "They do. Everyone knows about Harry and V— You-Know-Who."
Professor Trelawney tsked and continued reading out what Harry had in his cup. She gasped so loudly, so sharply, and so suddenly that Neville broke his teacup to clap his hands over his ears. Frankly, Hermione wanted to do the same, but she kept her hands flat on the table.
"The Grim," she said. "My dear, you are in grave danger. The Grim means that you will die and very soon at that."
Cheerful.
When class ended, Hermione was the first one down the ladder. She had to get to her Ancient Runes class and find a place where she could go back in time and come back to after class. Saturday, when she was giving the tour, she found the perfect little alcove hidden in a small hallway. She ducked inside and twisted the necklace back to two hours. It was the weirdest feeling, going back in time and honestly it made her a little dizzy.
The alcove had a small seat, so she sat down and planned out her Charms essay.
The clock tower chimed, signaling the fifteen-minute bell to ten when Divination started. Hermione stood up and peered around the corner. Harry and Ron were walking ahead of her and said their goodbyes. She followed Harry. Ew, is that what her hair looked like from the back? She seriously needed to brush better. Hermione walked out of her hiding place and fell into step beside Ron.
"Hey," he said. "I thought you were going with Harry to Divination."
"Oh. No."
"So, you dropped the class?"
"Er… no."
Maybe this was a mistake. They were sure to catch on to her. Maybe she should ask Professor McGonagall if she could tell Ron and Harry and that way she wouldn't have to lie. She absolutely hated lying.
However, Ron dropped the subject in favor of showing her the stamps Bill sent him through the post, while they waited for Professor Babbling. Bill was excited that his little brother was taking an interest in something school-related and bought him a new set of stamps, which was pretty cool of him.
Class was… class.
Apparently, Grims were a rather big deal in the Magic World. Professor McGonagall explained to all of them about Professor Trelawney's yearly predictions for a student's death. Absolute rubbish.
Hermione, feeling the day's wear on her, headed to Arithmancy. The classroom was more of a lecture hall than a square classroom like the rest of them, excluding Professor Trelawney's classroom. There were five levels all arranged like a theatre with long benches and tables to accommodate however many students would take the class.
She and Harry took their seats in the front row and Hermione readied her things.
"Maybe this was a mistake," Harry whispered. "What if I'm no good at Arithmancy?"
"I'll help you," she promised. "Besides, lots of purebloods go into this class without ever taking maths in their lives. Besides, Cedric showed you some of the assignments and I'd bet he'd be willing to help you, too. He's great like that."
"I suppose," he said. "I can probably drop it if I need to. With Divination, I think if I just tell her I'm going to die, I'll pass."
"There you go," said Hermione. "Just… give it a semester. You might surprise yourself."
Professor Vector, a witch in her thirties donning elegant forest green robes, was writing their lesson on the blackboard. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled slightly.
"Hello, Hermione," she said. "What maths class are you taking this year?"
"Statistics," she replied, pulling the textbook out of her bag and handing it to her professor.
Professor Vector took it and flipped through the pages.
"Excellent," she said and returned it to Hermione. "We use a lot of this material in the first eight weeks."
Harry's eyes widened, and he grabbed the textbook as if skimming through it would give him some hidden knowledge before class began.
Once everyone was settled in their seats, Hermione noted she and Harry were the only Gryffindors out of nine students, Professor Vector began her lesson.
"Arithmancy," she said, "is the prediction of events using numerology. It is a much more reliable method of prediction compared to Divination because it uses statistical prognostication rather than reliance on, dare I say, erratic patterns. You will be learning equations and by the end of this course you should be able to apply them and make real predictions. Now, pay close attention, because you will do three problems tonight in your textbook and each problem has twelve parts…"
Crikey O'Reilly.
"Arithmancy is the most challenging branch of magic, next to Ancient Runes. However, that should not put you off the subject. Arithmancy is crucial when it comes to creating new spells and wards and potioneers rely on it when they are creating their brews. Arithmancy is used in curse-breaking, magic reversal, and spell detection and analysis. The best Aurors use it as well. This year, we will be starting on the predictive aspect of arithmancy as well as basic equations that will set the foundations of future lessons. I warn you now that if you do not have an EE at the end of the year you should drop the class because it will only get harder. By your fifth year you will be crafting your own spells using arithmantical equations and theory. Please, do not attempt to create your own spells with only half knowledge or there could be irreversible damage."
Hermione really enjoyed the class. She enjoyed all maths because it was the same in every language. Even magic language there were familiar equations she used in Physics and Statistics. No wonder Cedric was able to complete her homework on her level if this was the studying he had under his belt.
After class was dismissed, she went straight to the library to do her homework.
"That wasn't so bad," said Harry. "I think I might be able to do it."
"I believe in you," said Hermione.
Harry smiled and bumped her shoulder with his. "Thanks."
"What are friends for?"
—
Two weeks later, Hermione was beginning to feel the strain from her classes. Plus, Ron was peeved at her because Crookshanks went for Scabbers again. Honestly, he was a cat. You can't scold a fish for swimming, you can't scold a cat for going after a rat. Even if it was one particular rat. Seriously, Crookshanks had some sort of vendetta against Scabbers. It was suspicious, but Hermione couldn't bring herself to investigate.
Sunday morning, she went straight to the Room of Things to study. She could skip breakfast and just eat a bigger lunch. Really, she needed to annotate these Maya Angelou poems and she needed to choose and analyze a court case from her textbook. Not to mention that stupid dream journal for Divination and eighteen inches for Transfiguration.
Ay caramba, she also had to write an essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin really knew his stuff and wanted them to know it too. Especially, since the past two years were subpar. Yeah… she needed to crack down on the books.
Hermione paced back and forth three times and opened the door to Cedric's work room. It was a touch more cluttered now, but he still kept a space cleared for her to do her muggle homework on the weekends. She didn't want to bring those books into the school library in case they got lost.
Sighing through her nose, Hermione plunked down on the bench and got to work. A couple hours later, Cedric walked in and set something down by her arm.
"What's that?"
"Uh… Happy Birthday," he said, tapping the neatly tied bow.
Ohhh, geez. Hermione groaned and closed her eyes.
"I forgot… I am so, so sorry. I… Oh, where did I put your gift?" Frack, she couldn't remember what she got him.
"Hey, don't worry about it," said Cedric, patting her back. "It's just another day and I know you're busy. Finish that paragraph and open your gift from your parents and the one from me."
Two paragraphs later, Cedric was tinkering and Hermione stretched out her hands which had cramped up from writing. She set her books aside and opened the gift from him. It about the size of a large book, but it was too light to be one. Nestled inside an old t-shirt was a wooden rectangle, beautifully and meticulously carved with a floral damask pattern.
"Wow!" she gasped. "What is it?"
Cedric chuckled and unfolded it so that it was standing up at an angle. He set her textbook on it and twisted two pieces of wire to hold the pages down.
"For your studying," he said. "That way you don't have to hold it open with your elbow anymore."
Hermione grinned and flapped her hands excitedly. "Thanks, Cedric, this is one of the best gifts I've ever gotten! Top three!"
"Yeah, well. Thank you for getting me the tools last year," he replied. "They've made everything so much easier and I got the idea from… from my mum's cookbook holder. You remember how much she liked to bake."
He always brought the treats she would make when he would come to play.
"Yeah… how—"
"It's getting easier," Cedric replied. "I still miss her, but I don't feel like crying when I think about it. The dementors though… they take me back to that day."
Hermione hummed and nodded. "Cedric? Did you face the boggart in Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
"Yes, but it wasn't my biggest fear. I didn't want my real fears exposed in front of everyone. You know? It was just luck that I read a scary book the night before and focused on that."
"I guess, but I don't really know your biggest fear." She rested her chin in her hand. "You don't have to tell me though."
"No, no." Cedric shook his head. "I just hide it really well… I—" He took a deep breath— "I'm afraid of being a disappointment."
A valid fear in her opinion.
"Well… I'm proud of you," said Hermione. "You've always got me in your corner."
Cedric smiled and put on a pair of goggles so he wouldn't get metal shavings in his eyes. "Thanks."
Hermione managed to make good progress by lunchtime. Her stomach was gurgling with hunger, but she just told herself that the closer she got to finishing, the sooner she'd be able to eat and take a break.
"Break time," said Cedric, pulling his goggles off. "Come on."
"I'm almost done…"
"No. Now." He got up and pulled her pencil out of her hand. "You're going to eat and then you'll come back to this with a new perspective."
"Yeah… Yeah. You're right."
They headed down to lunch talking about this and that. Some people were just waking up and heading to the library to catch up on the homework they were blowing off.
"Speaking of Defense," said Cedric. "Did you find someone to assist you with your lecture next week?"
Hermione closed her eyes and groaned. "Shhhht."
"That's okay. I'll help you out."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I just have to stand there and look pretty, right?" he said.
"Yes. Of course." She chuckled. "I'll just use the same routine as last year."
"Just don't throw me over your shoulder," he joked.
"Ohh, but that's the best part!" she said.
"Well, I wouldn't mind a piggy-back ride," he said, making the movement to hop onto her back though not intending to actually jump on her. To his (and her) surprise she wrapped her arms around his legs and held him up. She had to widen her stance and lean forward a bit but she managed to lift him.
They both laughed and Hermione decided to see how far she could carry him. Since they were on the ground floor, she actually managed until they were in the Great Hall and got to the Hufflepuff table. People were milling in and out of the Great Hall for their lunch which wasn't unusual for any day of the week but they were giving the twosome some odd looks.
"Whee!"
"All right, get your fat arse off me," said Hermione, dumping him unceremoniously off her back.
"That was fun," said Cedric cheerfully making Hermione giggle.
"Next time it's my turn," she said.
She didn't see Harry or Ron, so they were probably either still sleeping or getting to work on assignments they've been procrastinating on. At least Ron was excited about his Ancient Runes homework. It was nice to see him passionate about something rather than putting it off. Speaking of assignments…
"Odd question to ask," she said.
"Ask away," he said, ladling broccoli and cheese soup into a bowl.
"Do you dream?"
Cedric paused, accidentally causing the yellow goop to drizzle onto the table from the loss of momentum. "Yeah, sometimes. Why?"
She sighed and grabbed a sandwich. "We're supposed to do a dream journal for Divination."
"But… you don't dream," said Cedric.
"Exactly! Plus, she always wants to go on about Grims. The grim! The grim! Give me a break!"
"Wizards are superstitious, you know that."
Hermione gaped at him. "Oh, my God… You believe in that?"
"Hermione, you know I find Arithmancy more credible than Divination," he said. "But… yes. There are too many incidences where people have seen Grims and then died."
"And what about thestrals," she countered indignantly. "We can see them, but they've never caused us any harm. They pull our carriages for heaven's sake. I refuse to believe that seeing a big, black dog is a bad omen. Anyway, back to dream journals."
"Let me guess. You don't believe they can predict the future."
"Right! I believe that they can show signs of psychological things. You know? Like… like how if you have a dream where your teeth are falling out then it means that you're taking on adult responsibilities that you may not be ready for. That kind of thing," she said.
"So, what are you going to do?" Cedric asked. "Tell her you don't sleep enough to dream? Or make something up?"
"I don't want to lie," she said fretfully.
"Well then… I dream all the time," said Cedric. "You can use mine and predict them. It's not lying it's… expanding your resources."
"Really?"
"Do you want to pass or not?" said Cedric.
Hermione sighed through her nose. He had a point… and she wasn't a quitter. After a moment she nodded and hungrily bit into a sandwich.
"Alright," said Cedric. "I'll write 'em down for you."
"So, how are prefect duties going?" she asked.
"It's fine," he said. "I've been really busy… I have to patrol the hallways and monitor study hall breaks for first and second years and I seem to be the go-to guy for dealing with people who are upset. Not that I mind about that, I love helping people. Plus, I have O.W.L.s this year so I'm studying a lot for those. I also really want to get a boombox working, you know?"
"I understand," she said feeling a bit overwhelmed herself.
"Oh, well, I just have to find a balance," he said with a shrug.
"Right."
Balance… sure.
