AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wish to say that I am so terribly sorry for what I have
done with the chapter posting. This is the first long fic I've posted
(though not the first I've written, right Steph?) and I screwed up the
chapter numbering unbelievably, so again, I apologize. I've fixed it all
now. I'm incredulous that anyone managed to make it this far, considering
what a shambles I left the chapters in before. Sorry once more. - yamwam
"How much longer in this agony?" wailed Seamus Finnigan, lolling across the table.
"I can't stand it!" groaned Ron, clutching his throat. "I can't breathe in here!"
Harry checked his wristwatch. "It's only been fifteen minutes." There was a collective groan, and Professor Trelawney looked up sharply. The boys hurriedly opened their textbooks and pretended to read a Tarot chart.
The Gryffindors were in Divination class in the highest turret of the North Tower. Harry felt smothered under the thick purplish haze that hung about the room. The fire blazed as always in the fireplace at the back of the room, creating a stifling warmth in the small classroom with all the windows shut. Harry drew back the curtain a little and gazed sorrowfully through the frosted glass, at the pure crystalline whiteness that blanketed the lawns and the Forbidden Forest, the sparkling snowflakes that still drifted lazily over the wintry landscape. He wanted to be anywhere but here, trapped in this claustrophobia-provoking chamber, suffocating under purple fumes, pretending to care what the Empress card stood for.
Then the curtain was snapped shut. Harry looked up, startled, at Professor Trelawney, who looked dreadfully severe.
"You clearly are not possessed of the Inner Eye," she said sternly to Harry. "It is not my fault. I have tried to inspire you, but you are simply a non-believer."
"What's your point?" Harry asked.
Professor Trelawney frowned. "Why do you refuse to believe in the Inner Eye? The concept of an otherworldly force in a mundane society should not be so foreign to you, who witnessed so often the presence of magic within yourself while living in the Muggle world."
Harry shrugged. "You're right, I don't believe in the Inner Eye, because I can't find it in myself." His uncommon belligerence stemmed from being cooped up in a stuffy tower on such a beautiful frosty day. "Are you satisfied? Do you want me to leave?"
"No," said Professor Trelawney. "I want you to try harder. The gift of clairvoyance is weak in you, but it is there, and you must develop it." She sounded highly unlike her usual wispy self.
"What's to stop me from walking out?" Harry challenged.
Sybil Trelawney smiled smugly. "Now, this is where the Inner Eye becomes useful. The Fates foresee the anguish that you will cause poor Professor McGonagall if you drop Divination and fail to earn your O.W.L. for this course." She was triumphantly haughty. "You don't want to do that, do you? No? Then study those Tarot cards."
Defeated, Harry opened his textbook. Professor Trelawney spoke to the whole class. "When will you realize that the Inner Eye is not something to be dreaded or escaped, but embraced? True, the chances are that one in five of you will never have the Inner Eye, but do not let that one be you! The Inner Eye will come if you have faith."
At that moment the trapdoor flipped open and a head popped up. Niamh Giffard glanced quickly round the room and called down, "Marcus, this isn't the Charms classroom! I told you we were going the wrong-"
But she didn't finish, because as soon as she emerged through the trapdoor the atmosphere in the room changed dramatically. The teacups on the shelves spontaneously smashed, and the misty orbs at the front of the room all filled lucidly with Niamh's face. The windows banged open and icy draughts swirled the purple smoke in the room. The flames in the fireplace blazed bright red. And in the midst of this chaos was Niamh, whose head, they could all see, was wreathed in light that shone blue in the haze.
"My dear!" Professor Trelawney cried, toppling over onto a cushion, with her hand on her heart. "You have a blue aura! You are possessed of the Inner Eye!"
"Oh bloody hell," said Niamh, letting herself fall off the ladder.
* * * * *
Harry and Ron were walking through the library later that week when they encountered Niamh and Darius, studying behind a fortress of books. As they approached, Darius said without looking up from his parchment, "No she won't read your palm, no she can't tell you the score of next weekend's Quidditch match, and no she isn't going to tell you what's on the bloody exams! Now sod bloody off!"
"Do you kiss Niamh with that mouth?" Ron asked.
Darius and Niamh looked up in surprise. "Oh, it's you," Darius said. "Sorry."
"And the answer to your question is, he's never kissed me," Niamh said. "The coward."
"Have people really been asking you to do those things?" Harry asked, pushing aside a pile of books to sit down at their table.
"They've been pestering her all day," Darius said. "Even Marcus, who wants to know if he'll grow up to be a hero like Harry Potter. That's why we're hiding in here."
"I wish people weren't so inquisitive," Niamh said miserably.
"Nosy, you mean," Ron said. "What happened with Trelawney after she made us all leave?"
Niamh shrugged. "She tried to pry me open. Asked me where I was from, what my genealogy was, and so on. I lied to her to make it look like a fluke. It took me ages to get away from her."
"So you do have the Inner Eye?" Ron asked.
Niamh grimaced. "Stop saying that! She kept saying it, over and over. Yes, I'm a gypsy, yes I'm psychic, now shut up about it, will you?" She put her face in her hands. "What a disaster. They'll expel me for sure."
"What?" Harry said. "Why would they expel you?"
"Professor Dumbledore had to fight the board of trustees to let me attend regular school here. I had to promise not to use my gifts to 'cause panic in the student body', or to cheat on tests and exams. As if I would fritter away my own life by cheating!" she scoffed. "I know the value of a Hogwarts education and I wasn't about to squander this opportunity like a common fool. And now everything's ruined. Everyone knows I'm a gypsy. The board of trustees will have me expelled for sure." And she wept into her hands, while Darius Diggle patted her back reassuringly and tried to say comforting things.
But she wasn't expelled. Albus Dumbledore fought the board of trustees as he had fought them for so many students before. And, as he usually did, he won. To the great rage of a few influential individuals, especially the purist Lucius Malfoy, Niamh Giffard remained at Hogwarts, on the condition that she not reveal anything she knew to the students and staff, and that she never take the Divination course. The latter was her own stipulation.
"How much longer in this agony?" wailed Seamus Finnigan, lolling across the table.
"I can't stand it!" groaned Ron, clutching his throat. "I can't breathe in here!"
Harry checked his wristwatch. "It's only been fifteen minutes." There was a collective groan, and Professor Trelawney looked up sharply. The boys hurriedly opened their textbooks and pretended to read a Tarot chart.
The Gryffindors were in Divination class in the highest turret of the North Tower. Harry felt smothered under the thick purplish haze that hung about the room. The fire blazed as always in the fireplace at the back of the room, creating a stifling warmth in the small classroom with all the windows shut. Harry drew back the curtain a little and gazed sorrowfully through the frosted glass, at the pure crystalline whiteness that blanketed the lawns and the Forbidden Forest, the sparkling snowflakes that still drifted lazily over the wintry landscape. He wanted to be anywhere but here, trapped in this claustrophobia-provoking chamber, suffocating under purple fumes, pretending to care what the Empress card stood for.
Then the curtain was snapped shut. Harry looked up, startled, at Professor Trelawney, who looked dreadfully severe.
"You clearly are not possessed of the Inner Eye," she said sternly to Harry. "It is not my fault. I have tried to inspire you, but you are simply a non-believer."
"What's your point?" Harry asked.
Professor Trelawney frowned. "Why do you refuse to believe in the Inner Eye? The concept of an otherworldly force in a mundane society should not be so foreign to you, who witnessed so often the presence of magic within yourself while living in the Muggle world."
Harry shrugged. "You're right, I don't believe in the Inner Eye, because I can't find it in myself." His uncommon belligerence stemmed from being cooped up in a stuffy tower on such a beautiful frosty day. "Are you satisfied? Do you want me to leave?"
"No," said Professor Trelawney. "I want you to try harder. The gift of clairvoyance is weak in you, but it is there, and you must develop it." She sounded highly unlike her usual wispy self.
"What's to stop me from walking out?" Harry challenged.
Sybil Trelawney smiled smugly. "Now, this is where the Inner Eye becomes useful. The Fates foresee the anguish that you will cause poor Professor McGonagall if you drop Divination and fail to earn your O.W.L. for this course." She was triumphantly haughty. "You don't want to do that, do you? No? Then study those Tarot cards."
Defeated, Harry opened his textbook. Professor Trelawney spoke to the whole class. "When will you realize that the Inner Eye is not something to be dreaded or escaped, but embraced? True, the chances are that one in five of you will never have the Inner Eye, but do not let that one be you! The Inner Eye will come if you have faith."
At that moment the trapdoor flipped open and a head popped up. Niamh Giffard glanced quickly round the room and called down, "Marcus, this isn't the Charms classroom! I told you we were going the wrong-"
But she didn't finish, because as soon as she emerged through the trapdoor the atmosphere in the room changed dramatically. The teacups on the shelves spontaneously smashed, and the misty orbs at the front of the room all filled lucidly with Niamh's face. The windows banged open and icy draughts swirled the purple smoke in the room. The flames in the fireplace blazed bright red. And in the midst of this chaos was Niamh, whose head, they could all see, was wreathed in light that shone blue in the haze.
"My dear!" Professor Trelawney cried, toppling over onto a cushion, with her hand on her heart. "You have a blue aura! You are possessed of the Inner Eye!"
"Oh bloody hell," said Niamh, letting herself fall off the ladder.
* * * * *
Harry and Ron were walking through the library later that week when they encountered Niamh and Darius, studying behind a fortress of books. As they approached, Darius said without looking up from his parchment, "No she won't read your palm, no she can't tell you the score of next weekend's Quidditch match, and no she isn't going to tell you what's on the bloody exams! Now sod bloody off!"
"Do you kiss Niamh with that mouth?" Ron asked.
Darius and Niamh looked up in surprise. "Oh, it's you," Darius said. "Sorry."
"And the answer to your question is, he's never kissed me," Niamh said. "The coward."
"Have people really been asking you to do those things?" Harry asked, pushing aside a pile of books to sit down at their table.
"They've been pestering her all day," Darius said. "Even Marcus, who wants to know if he'll grow up to be a hero like Harry Potter. That's why we're hiding in here."
"I wish people weren't so inquisitive," Niamh said miserably.
"Nosy, you mean," Ron said. "What happened with Trelawney after she made us all leave?"
Niamh shrugged. "She tried to pry me open. Asked me where I was from, what my genealogy was, and so on. I lied to her to make it look like a fluke. It took me ages to get away from her."
"So you do have the Inner Eye?" Ron asked.
Niamh grimaced. "Stop saying that! She kept saying it, over and over. Yes, I'm a gypsy, yes I'm psychic, now shut up about it, will you?" She put her face in her hands. "What a disaster. They'll expel me for sure."
"What?" Harry said. "Why would they expel you?"
"Professor Dumbledore had to fight the board of trustees to let me attend regular school here. I had to promise not to use my gifts to 'cause panic in the student body', or to cheat on tests and exams. As if I would fritter away my own life by cheating!" she scoffed. "I know the value of a Hogwarts education and I wasn't about to squander this opportunity like a common fool. And now everything's ruined. Everyone knows I'm a gypsy. The board of trustees will have me expelled for sure." And she wept into her hands, while Darius Diggle patted her back reassuringly and tried to say comforting things.
But she wasn't expelled. Albus Dumbledore fought the board of trustees as he had fought them for so many students before. And, as he usually did, he won. To the great rage of a few influential individuals, especially the purist Lucius Malfoy, Niamh Giffard remained at Hogwarts, on the condition that she not reveal anything she knew to the students and staff, and that she never take the Divination course. The latter was her own stipulation.
