Chapter 6
Transfiguration that day was as usual, same with Herbology, out in the greenhouses, with an introduction to Bertelates, banana-shaped plant that squirted some greenish liquid to heal toe fungus. Then Hermione broke off to go to Arithmancy while Harry, Ron, and Callista climbed the towers to Divination Class.
Professor Trelawny was as strange as usual, but Calli was fascinated by her. "Look at this place!" she gasped, "It's amazing!" She loved the fire, Professor Trelawny's glasses, even the stuffiness of the room, it seemed. Lavender and Parvati dragged her over to their table to join the, as Ron put it, "We love Divination Fan Club". They all took their seats as the professor explained that they were going to start with palm-reading this year.
"First," she said, after handing out sheets with different marks, lines, and shapes of the hand marked out on it and what they meant, "I need an assistant to be my example." She quickly glanced past Parvati's and Lavender's frantically waving hands and straight towards Harry, who had no intention of even lifting his arm to volunteer, yet was not surprised when she said, "Harry, please come up here." Harry sighed and went to the front. "Now," she began, "I'm going to examine his hand and by looking at the lines, I will be able to tell things about his future...and his past." She grabbed Harry's hand dramatically, and after only about a split-second of looking, suddenly screamed, "Oh, my! Your lifeline is very short! Oh dear, it just- cuts off suddenly!!"
"Yeah, that's a surprise," said Harry with sarcastic enthusiasm, "See, because no one's ever told me I was gonna die before! I mean, it's not like I didn't see the 'grim' two years ago, and last year you didn't tell me or anything that I might be having a near-fatal accident any time soon! You might have warned me! ...Does my line-life or whatever actually tell when it's going to happen??" The greater part of the class got a good chuckle out of that.
"Not funny, Potter," Professor Trelawny hissed. "You talk about death as if it was okay with you...as if it's something that one experiences every day!"
"Well, if I died as many times as you predicted, yeah, that'd be about accurate."
"Voldemort's out to get you, Potter, whether you like it or not!" She had lowered her voice even more so that only Harry could hear. "He's back in full power. You can smart-mouth me all you want, but that won't change the facts." And she grabbed his hand back. A great start to the year with her, thought Harry.
She then went on to read a very smooth, long 'love-line', to which someone in the class whistled, and then on his 'road of life' line she read a very traumatic experience in his past, and several recently, "And more to come in your near future." She said dramatically.
"Oh, well, that's surprising," muttered Harry, and started toward his seat.
"Thank you for demonstrating, Harry. Class, please find a partner and read each other's palms."
As Harry passed Callista's table on the way back to his, she commented, "Wow, is this class such a soap-opera every day?"
"Soap....what?" asked Harry.
"Never mind," she said, laughing, and leaned forward to Harry so Parvati and Lavender couldn't hear, "Just a teeny over-eccentric, wouldn't you say? Or is she only like this on the first day to scare her students away?"
"Oh, no," he whispered back, chuckling. "She's just like that to me. And she gets worse as time goes on- just wait." He returned to his seat next to Ron.
"Well," said Ron when he returned, "It gets more and more painful just watching!"
"Oh, why didn't we just quit this class?"
"You gotta admit, it's a bit entertaining sometimes."
"Only sometimes. That was just plain annoying."
"Anyway, I already know you're gonna die...sometime in the near future!! So why don't you examine my palm?"
Harry did a perfect imitation of Professor Trelawny- pulling Ron's hand toward him dramatically and gasping. "Oooh, see how long your life-line is!" He exclaimed, tracing Ron's "life-line" around Ron's hand several times instead of straight across once like it was. "You will live to be approximately...Seven thousand, Eight hundred and Fifty-four years old. And you will marry-" he continued, now tracing Ron's love-line, "43 times. Obviously because none of your wives can live you out, you old geezer! Now, for your profession..." He expertly counted the tiny lines on Ron's knuckles and 'converting' them to letters, "...You will take Filch's place as...shall we call it...Master of Custodial Arts among the University of Hogwarts School for the Incredibly Talented and Gifted Magical Folk."
At lunch, Hermione was back to scanning her book she had borrowed from Harry at breakfast, but she wasn't so busy that she couldn't brag to them about how interesting Arithmancy had been. Callista did not sit with them, she went to sit with Parvati and Lavender, but she waved as she passed and told them how much she had enjoyed Divination, and she gave a little wink at Harry. They all dug into their Shepherd's Pie.
"So," said Harry, "We got through the normal half of the day."
"Yep," agreed Hermione, "And next we have all the exciting yet slightly intimidating classes, starting with Care of Magical Creatures, with Who- Knows- What quote-quote animals we'll have this year." She smiled and waved up at the staff table, and Hagrid waved back. The three of them loved Hagrid, but really weren't looking forward to another year of possible blast-ended-skrewt-typed creatures.
"And after that," continued Harry, "Is Physical Education." He shuddered. "We had that back at the old muggle school, and our teacher would send us out to the track to work on our jogging, but instead of jogging it became more of a Who-Of-Dudley's-Friends-Can- 'Accidentally'- Run-In-To-And-Knock-Over-Harry time. This better be different." The others smiled.
"And after Physical Whatever," went on Ron, "We are fortunate enough to get to enjoy History of Magic. That never really changes, does it?"
Hermione grinned and said, "Oh, but what comes next is even better! Potions!" And now all three of them shuddered, each hoping that Mrs. Everett would have much different thoughts of the Slytherins than Snape had.
"And last," said Harry, "comes Defense Against The Dark Arts... with Professor Marchbanks..." There was a silence for a moment, than Harry continued, "I wonder what she knows about-" He stopped himself from saying 'Voldemort' and instead said, "-about Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Yeah," agreed Hermione, noticing Harry's quick avoidance of the other subject and trying to make him comfortable, "She doesn't look old enough to have much...experience."
Ron, who had not caught that Harry had purposely not mentioned Voldemort, said, "Well, like Harry said, wasn't she the one who first sighted You-Know-Who?" More silence.
Harry finally nodded. "I don't know, you guys... I've been thinking about it, and He just wouldn't have let himself be seen, you know? Why did He...why was it her that saw...where...?" He cut off, and Hermione offered,
"If you don't want to ask her about it, I have no problem maybe mentioning-"
"No," said Harry hurriedly, "It's not that, I'm okay with talking to her, except that, well, she looks really familiar for some reason. Either of you think so?" They both shook their heads slowly. "Hm, must've seen her before at Hogsmeade or something...or maybe a long time ago."
"Well," said Ron, "We'd better be on our way, then, if we want to visit Hagrid a bit early and find out how his summer's been." He grinned. They headed towards the doors to leave for Hagrid's, but Madame Hooch sat in a small chair set at the double doors, apparently patrolling. She stood up when she saw them approach.
"And where do you think you're going? Sneaking out, hm?" She smiled.
"Uh, no," replied Harry, "We were actually just heading down to our next class, Care of Magical Creatures."
"Yes, well, you'll need an escort, and class doesn't start for about half-an-hour anyway."
"Oh, but we wanted to go see Hagrid early!" cried Hermione. Madame Hooch looked around to make sure no one was looking, and then whispered,
"It's really not safe, you know, but.... if you promise not to tell anyone, I might just be your escort-"
"Not a soul!" promised Ron, and the others nodded hastily.
"Well then, let's hurry!" And they followed her out to Hagrid's cabin. And left them at the front door with a wink. They knocked, and Hagrid opened the door and grinned.
"'Arry! Ron! 'Ermione! Wadda ya doin' 'ere, 'n' without an escort?" They nodded toward Madame Hooch who was quickly making her way back toward the castle. Then they continued staring at him, for now, in broad daylight, Harry was able to recognize the change he had noticed the night before- Hagrid looked completely different! His hair, instead of falling in a great mass, was cut jaggedly, as if the scissors had a hard time working in his course hair, all the way up to around his chin! His beard was much shorter and a bit jagged as well, as if he had tried to shave it but it grew back, and his face and clothes seemed clean.
"Oh, Hagrid!" said Hermione, startled.
"Hm?"
"It looks...wonderful!"
"Oh, you mean my 'air 'n' beard? I 'ad to do that, over the summer with my job 'n' all," he said, as if he would certainly have not done it otherwise, but thought it was a little nice.
"Wow," said Ron, "It's a big ch- ... what job?"
"Er..." said Hagrid uncertainly, "You know, the one Dumbledore asked me to do." He sounded proud at this, and Harry felt good about that.
"And..." Harry began, trying not to prod too much, "... did it go well?"
"Oh, yeah, awfully well, they all seemed to-" And he stopped dead. "Now just what are ya tryin' to make me say, eh? I ain't telling you nothing! Now come in 'ere and 'ave some tea."
