"Here!"
Maribella looked up sharply, brought out of her daze by a hand waving a piece of parchment in her face. She had been observing where her sister was seated at the Slytherin table, looking as though she truly belonged, with her green uniform and gleaming eyes. At least she wasn't amongst the Slytherins Maribella had seen impersonating Harry's unfortunate fainting incident on the train ride.
"Hello?" The voice from before called again, handing her the paper.
"What's this?" Maribella said, grabbing it from the Weasley twin that had passed it to her, whichever one he might be.
"We've been tasked with handing out your third-year schedules," he answered, puffing out his chest.
"The family pride!" Called the other one as he passed Hermione's schedule to the girl on the opposite side of the table.
"Apple of Mum's eye!" The one next to her proclaimed, hand clutching his chest dramatically.
"This will do wonders for our Ministry applications, Fred!"
"Hey, Percy, you might have some competition with—"
"Oh, scatter off, will you?" Percy Weasley, newly appointed Head Boy, and brother to the Weasley twins, waved them away, irritated.
Maribella looked over at her schedule. They'd already be having some new subjects; both Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, which were the two electives she had signed up for. Maribella had been waiting to take Care of Magical Creatures since her first year- magical creatures were her one true passion. The fact that Hagrid, a dear friend, would be teaching it, should have made Maribella even more excited, but something didn't feel quite right still.
Her eyes strayed back to where Anna was seated, listening as one of her fellow Slytherins, a girl of dark brown hair, babbled beside her. As Ron and Hermione argued over their new schedules, Maribella thought she'd better go over and try to make amends with her sister. She stood up, ignoring Harry's flabbergasted look, and moved toward the Slytherin table.
"Anna," Maribella said, interrupting the brunette girl's monologue. "Would you like to sit with me for breakfast?"
Anna's gaze fluttered to a spot behind her, where the Gryffindor table was.
"Better not," Anna replied, turning back to her oatmeal and new friend.
"Why not?" Maribella demanded, crossing her arms.
She couldn't understand Anna's behaviour. How long had Anna craved Maribella's company for? Maribella knew for a fact that she had been thoroughly missed for the past few years. Maribella knew that Anna was angry— why, they had fought only last night. But she was also trying to make amends! Why was Anna acting out now that they finally had the opportunity to be together, in an environment they both had longed for?
"I've made a friend," Anna replied. "Maribella, this is Astoria Greengrass. You may know her sister—"
"Daphne Greengrass."
Oh, Maribella knew Daphne Greengrass alright. She was a Slytherin in her year, and though not explicitly antagonistic like Malfoy or Parkinson, Maribella still held a deep distrust for the girl. She looked at the little girl beside her sister. Now that she knew her lineage, she could see perfectly what kind of person she was. A slightly upward tilted nose, that Maribella could see wrinkling in disdain, thin lips, probably frequently pursed in disapproval at anyone whose thoughts differed from her conservartive ones, and- at that Maribella paused in her mental evaluation. The girl had unnerving grey eyes with a flame burning within its ashes. She was looking at Maribella curiously as if evaluating the other girl herself.
"Er—" Maribella said, averting her gaze. "You can make friends later, let's go over to the Gryffindor table." Maribella grabbed Anna's hand, but it was quickly snatched back.
"I don't think I'm welcome there," Anna said. "You can sit here, though, if you'd like."
Maribella didn't know if she was able to hide how much she did not want to sit at the Slytherin table. In the end, they decided that it wouldn't be appropriate to eat meals together, and Maribella stalked back to her end of the hall.
"But look," Ron was saying to Hermione when Maribella came back, "Arithmancy, nine o'clock, Muggle Studies, nine o'clock, and Divination nine o'clock—"
"Are they still on that?" Maribella asked grumpily, dropping down next to Harry into a slouch.
"Yeah, they are," he answered, looking bored himself. "Is your sister still mad?"
"Yeah," Maribella said.
"I'm sorry," Harry consoled, touching her back. "She'll come around."
"Yeah, whatever," Maribella grumbled, without meeting Harry's eyes. Instead, she looked around, and noticed that the Hall was emptying by the second as people went off to their respective first classes.
"We should probably get a move on," she said, taking the opportunity to change the subject.
They finished their breakfasts hastily, and Maribella left without a look back at the Slytherin table. Luckily for her, she got to sweat out all of her anger on the way up to their first class of the day: Divination. It was located on the very top of the North Tower. That fact presented the quartet of friends with two different problems: first, it was in a tower, which meant lots and lots of stairs. Second, they rarely ventured into the northern regions of the castle, let alone the North Tower, which meant that they did not know where they were going. It didn't help the situation that the staircases moved at random, making their job a dozen times harder. Even Harry, who had explored the castle the most out of all of them with his Invisibility Cloak, didn't seem to know where they were going.
"Why," Maribella started in between breaths, as her legs worked incessantly forward even though her brain was begging for a break, "is the North Tower located in the southern aisle of the castle?"
"This- isn't- south," Ron panted.
"How do you know?" Hermione asked, stopping short.
Maribella took the opportunity to rest, putting her hands on her knees and leaning onto them. She wiped a stream of sweat off of her forehead and enjoyed the cool breeze coming from the window on their left.
"It can't be," said Ron. "I was looking out of the window— that's south. Look, you can see a bit of the lake…" Maribella was impressed, because she was as lost as a wand in a pile of sticks.
"Aha!" A voice yelled from their left.
Maribella jumped back, straining from the effort. A lone painting adorned the wall, and in it, a short, squat knight in a suit of silver armour, was pointing at them out of frame.
"What villains are these that trespass upon my private land?" He thundered as though proclaiming a speech. He drew his sword and jumped off his fat pony. "Draw, you knaves, you dogs!" The weapon was huge compared to the man, and he was wobbling under its weight. A wild swing over his head ended badly, with the knight flopping facedown onto the grassland below him.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked, approaching the painting as if to help.
"Get back!" The knight roared desperately. "You barbarous, boil-brained tyrant! Back, you rogue!"
Harry backed away, eyes wide and arms raised in surrender.
"Listen," Ron said impatiently, "we're just looking for the North Tower."
"You wouldn't happen to know the way?" Harry asked.
That was the right thing to say. Anger and resistance vanished from the knight's demeanour, and he adopted a completely new posture: shoulders back, stomach pulled in, and a look of distanced glory on his face.
"A quest! Come follow me, dear friends!" He clanked to his feet, and mounting on his pony, shouted, "Onward, comrades!"
The pony trotted forward and disappeared into the edge of the canvas, only to reappear in a painting on the next hallway, awakening the old wizard that called it home. The quartet followed the knight as he galloped through fruit bowls, a flowering field, past a particularly sinister dragon, and a painting of an alarmed group of women in petticoats, that hung on the top of the spiraling steps. They heard a murmur of voices from above and knew they had finally arrived.
"Farewell!" Cried the knight, popping his head into a painting of monks. "Farewell, my good sirs and gentle ladies! If you ever have need for a noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!"
"Yeah, we'll call you," muttered Ron as they climbed the last few steps, "if we ever need someone mental."
They finally emerged onto a tiny landing where most of the class was already assembled. It was a circular room, with a trapdoor set in the ceiling. On the trapdoor there was a brass plaque that read 'Sybill Trelawney, Divination teacher'. It burst open, and a ladder descended suddenly, landing at Lavender Brown's feet. The girl squealed, and, together with her best friend, Parvati Patil, scurried up into the room. Everyone followed.
Once in the room, Maribella gaped around her. Never had she seen such an unconventional classroom. Instead of neatly lined desks, there were short-legged round tables scattered around the room, surrounded by two or three plumpy poufs or zabutons each. All the lamps were draped in red, giving the room a rose tint. That, combined with the strong incense that was lit by the fire, gave the room a mystical vibe never experienced before. The shelves on the walls were crammed with various items: crystal balls, teapots, tarot cards, stubs of scented candles, and jars filled with cinnamon, lavender, and other herbs.
"Welcome," came a dreamy voice from the shadows. It belonged to Professor Trelawney herself. Her shiny glasses that enlarged her eyes, giving her a bug-like appearance, and a shawl adorned with multiple glittering jewels hung on her thin shoulders. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings.
"How nice it is to see you all in the physical world at last," the professor continued. "Sit, my children, sit." They sat awkwardly around the tables. Maribella partnered with Hermione. "In this room, you shall explore the mysterious art of Divination. In this room, you shall discover if you possess…" She paused dramatically. "The Sight."
Maribella held her breath.
"I must warn you that Divination is the most difficult of all magical arts. Books can only take you so far in this field."
Hermione gasped indignantly, holding her copy of Unfogging the Future protectively. The entire class looked at her, amused. Maribella beamed, a contrast to Hermione's disappointment. She wasn't very good at subjects that required a good grasp of theory, she preferred to run with her instincts.
"Many witches and wizards," Professor Trelawney continued, her gleaming eyes moving from face to face, "talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future."
She suddenly did a 180 degree turn and pointed a bony finger at Neville.
"You! Boy!"
Neville jumped in surprise and pointed at himself, mouthing what seemed to be the word 'Me?'.
"Is your grandmother well?"
"I- I think so," Neville weavered.
"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear," said Professor Trelawney as Neville gulped. Maribella gaped. How was Professor Trelawney able to tell? "We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year." She went on placidly, "The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next, we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she suddenly shot at Parvati Patil, "beware a red-haired man."
Parvati, who was sitting right behind the very ginger Ron, exchanged a look with Lavender, and the two promptly switched seats.
Trelawney was still talking, in sort of a haze.
"In the second term, we shall progress to the crystal ball— if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, I sense an outbreak of the flu this winter, and I will be without my voice. Now," she said, with newfound force, "I want each of you to collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it."
She went on instructing them on what had to be done for their futures to be revealed. Maribella picked a nice pink-patterned teacup, had it filled with scalding camomile tea, and sat down on her pouf. She closed her eyes, allowing her mind to relax. Then, she brought the cup to her lips slowly, imagining the sweet tea was flowing freely into her system, swirling inside, and feeding her Inner Eye. The tea made contact with her tongue, and Maribella immediately spat it out.
It was hot! More than hot, it was searing, blistering, hot! It felt as if all of her taste buds had been burned off the tip of her tongue. Maribella stuck her tongue out trying to cool it down, but the combined heat from the fireplace and the candles did little to diminish the pain. She glared at the teacup in her hands, as if it was responsible for her lack of development in mastering Divination.
Then, she tried again, blowing on the tea, and taking small, tentative, sips. Just as Trelawney had instructed, she left a little less than a quarter of the drink in the cup, and then, holding it in her left hand, proceeded to swirl the cup three times in a counter-clockwise direction. She carefully inverted her cup over the saucer, leaving it there for about a minute so all the rest of the liquid could drain away. Hermione was waiting, tapping her feet impatiently, and sending Maribella pointed looks, but she wanted to do it properly. Hermione would have to wait. Finally, she turned it back over, to find the soggy tea leaves were scattered around into lines, dots, and small and large groups clustered at the bottom. It looked meaningless and confusing, but it was Hermione's job to read her future, not hers. The two exchanged cups.
"Yours looks like a... wristwatch," Maribella said, narrowing her eyes in concentration as she tried to make sense of the mossy leaves inside Hermione's teacup. "Which means…" she said, flipping through the pages of her textbook. "The passage of time?" Maribella's shoulders sank in disappointment. She was starting to think she was not in the possession of the so-called 'Sight' Trelawney had mentioned.
"The passage of time?" Hermione scoffed. "Well, I could have told you that without this 'leaves' nonsense. Let me read yours. It looks like a canine animal of some sort," Hermione deadpanned, raising one eyebrow at Maribella, who rolled her eyes. Hermione angled the cup differently. "But if we flip this around, it can resemble a dagger, which signalizes danger. So, be cautious of a canine beast. Maybe a werewolf?" Hermione suggested innocently, though frustrated.
"Hermione," Maribella chided. "Take this seriously."
"I am," Hermione looked genuinely offended at the suggestion that she wasn't taking schoolwork seriously. "Take a look for yourself."
"I can't look at it! That's not how this works!"
A loud snort of laughter disrupted their reading. It came from Harry and Ron, who seemed to be having too much fun with their futures. Professor Trelawney clearly disapproved, for she interrupted her conversation with Lavender- in which she predicted that whatever Lavender was dreading would happen on Friday, the sixteenth of October, and snatched Harry's teacup from Ron.
Maribella inched closer to the boys' table, leaning forward toward Trelawney so she could see a real reading take place.
"The falcon," Trelawney started. "You have a deadly enemy."
"But everyone knows that," Hermione whispered. Maribella elbowed Hermione hard on the ribs, as everyone whirled around to look at her. "What? They do. Everybody knows about Harry and You-Know-Who."
Professor Trelawney pursed her lips but didn't say anything. The jewels on her shawl twinkled in the light as she turned around, her back facing Hermione, and, consequently, Maribella too. She crept to stand over Trelawney's shoulder to see if any of the images she found matched that of the Professor's.
"The club… an attack." Maribella thought the club looked like the Minister of Magic's bowler hat. "The skull… danger in your path. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup…"
Everyone was watching Trelawney with unblinking eyes. Maribella held her breath in expectation, for the Professor kept on rotating it counterclockwise, and then, suddenly— the tinkle of breaking china. Professor Trelawney had dropped the teacup, and she was staring at the pieces with wide-eyed terror.
"My dear boy… you have the Grim."
Nearly everyone around Maribella clapped their hands to their mouth, but Maribella simply frowned. She had heard tales of the Grim, of course. All magical children had gone to bed with warnings of how the Grim would take away disobedient children for all of eternity. But back at the Grotta, they had always been very critical of omens. They weren't complete savages, of course. They still believed in your average superstitions: 'May-born witches marry Muggles' or 'Bad luck can be prevented by turning three times on the spot and deliberately splinching one's thumbs'. But the Grim was more complicated than that.
It presumably was the animalification of death, in the form of a large, black, menacing, phantom-like dog. And because of that belief, Mrs. Piccinni had tended to various large, black, menacing, phantom-like dogs who were in a state of great peril: some had limbs magically amputated, and therefore could not be regrown, some had been poisoned with different types of draughts, etc…. In the end, all those dogs had one thing in common— they were ordinary. Not an omen for anything. Because of that, Mrs. Piccinni had tried to launch an awareness campaign through various media channels, such as the Daily Prophet, to inform witches and wizards alike of this common misconception, but unfortunately, there were not enough resources, and the project was abandoned.
Maribella wasn't the only one who was questioning the death omen given to Harry.
"Death omens," Hermione said, rolling her eyes as they descended Professor Trelawney's ladder after class. "Honestly!"
"Harry," Ron said, in a low, serious voice, "you haven't seen a great, black dog anywhere, have you?"
"Yes, the night I left the Dursleys, I-"
"A great black dog doesn't actually mean anything," Maribella interrupted quietly.
"Yes," Hermione was happy to agree. "If you ask me, Divination is a very wooly discipline."
"If Harry's seen the Grim, though... My uncle Bilius saw one and died of fright only 24 hours later."
"But how would you even differentiate a Grim from a normal dog?" Maribella asked.
"I dunno, I-"
"Exactly, Ron," Maribella said. "You can't know."
"Your uncle died of fright," Hermione concluded. "And Harry's still with us because he's not stupid enough to see one and think, 'right, well, I'd better kick the bucket then!'"
"That was very insensitive, Hermione," Maribella scolded. "Now, listen, Ron, I'm not saying the Grim isn't an omen, I'm saying it isn't right to discriminate black dogs just because-"
"He died 24 hours later, Mari!" Ron said back.
"But—"
"When you've all finished deciding whether I'm going to die or not because of a dog!" Harry suddenly snapped, and Ron and Maribella quietened down, embarrassed. They were silent for the entirety of the way to their Transfiguration class.
A.N.:/ Hi, everyone! It's been a couple of months... sorry for taking so long to update, but I'm back! Thank you all for reading!