A/n:  Hey everyone!  Here's the second part Destiny's Struggle.  I'm having a horribly hard time with this story right now, it's just all stuck in my mind.  I have more written, though, so before we get to the place I'm stuck at, you won't have to wait for insanely long periods of time, providing I remember to update, as I have forgotten this story for a while.  Sorry!

A note:  I only put lyrics in every other chapter because when I originally wrote this, the two parts of the chapters were together.  For instance, the lyrics in part one of Destiny's Struggles are intended to go for both parts.  I'm not going to find lyrics to fit both halves.  It's senseless.

Destiny's Struggle: 2

When they reached Hagrid's front door, Fang's great, booming barks resounded deafeningly before they had even knocked.  They didn't bother knocking at all, as a moment later the door opened to reveal Hagrid towering over them, looking extremely angry, to their surprise.

"I'm tellin' yeh, I don' have any o' yer ruddy flobberworm bile—"  He stopped at the sight of them.  Going quite red in the face, he gave them a sheepish smile.  "Er—sorry 'bout that—c'min, c'min

. . ."

The three wandered inside, all rather confused as Hagrid shut the door behind them.  He immediately pulled Harry and Ron into a bone-crushing hug.  For at least twenty seconds, Harry was certain that his bones were being reduced to dust by the force of Hagrid's arms.  When he was finally released, Hagrid gave them each—what he thought to be—jovial pats on the back that made them lose what little breath they'd managed to accumulate since they'd been released from his embrace.  "Great ter see yeh both!" he boomed, with a great, caring smile for them.

"You . . . you too, Hagrid," Harry managed to gasp.

Hagrid turned to Hermione and seemed to freeze.  Lacking a great deal of social skill, Hagrid didn't have any idea of what to say to her.  Hermione could sense this and smiled at him.  "Hello, Hagrid," she said.  Her voice was soft, but calm and serene.

"Hermione!  Welcome back!" he said, finding his voice at last.  He hugged her too, though he was extremely gentle with her, opposite of how he had unintentionally been with Harry and Ron.  The two boys shared a look and had to work hard to smother their laughter at this mutual thought.

He invited them all to sit down at his table and they took him up on this.  He bustled about the kitchen for a few minutes, getting down cups.  He gave them a sideways look.  "Is water okay?  Me kettle's broken."  They agreed, and a minute later, they were all sitting around the table, sipping lukewarm water out of slightly dusty ceramic cups with floral patterns.

"How have yeh all bin?" he asked once they were seated.  He looked to Harry.  "Yer summers?  I heard from Dumbledore that you and Hermione were at his sanctuary most of the time."  He grimaced.  "Bloody Muggles.  Unfortunate circumstances."

Hermione stiffened a bit at this.  "Not all Muggles are that way!" she replied a bit indignantly.  "My parents most certainly are not!"

Hagrid could sense he had made a mistake.  "I'm sorry, Hermione!  I didn' mean fer it ter sound that way.  O' course I know it's not all Muggles.  I didn' mean ter offend yeh."

"Oh, I know you didn't mean it," said Hermione, relaxing.  "I'm just a bit . . . worked up today.  I've grown somewhat defensive of Muggles since this whole war thing began."

"Tha's perfectly understandable.  So how have yeh all bin?" said Hagrid, resuming their conversation, but looking a bit subdued. 

"We're all fine," said Harry, glancing at Hermione out of the corner of his eye, somehow unsure that this included her.  She was staring at her cup in a depressed sort of way.  "Happy to be back."  He paused.  "So why were you yelling at us when we came to your door?"

Hagrid's expression visibly darkened.  "Oh, that.  I though' yeh mighta bin that insufferable git that yeh call a professor—Snape.  He was in here not five minutes ago buggin' me ter give him some flobberworm bile.  I told him over an' over that I didn' have any, but he just got more angry until he finally stormed out.  I considered settin' Fang on him, but thought better of it.  If he comes back, I can' say I won', though."

Harry and Ron's expressions visibly darkened at the mention of the Potion Master's name.  Hermione focused her eyes even more intently on her cup, but her expression was more thoughtful now than depressed.  Hagrid, looking between the three, could not miss the tension descending.

"What has he done now?" growled Hagrid.  For the first time, he seemed to take notice of the time of day.  "And shouldn' yeh be in Potions righ' now?  Shouldn' Snape, fer that matter?"

"Should be, yes," agreed Harry.  "And would be if he hadn't gone off and smacked Hermione round the face!"

Hagrid's eyes widened.  "He didn'!"

"Oh, don't you start," she warned Hagrid.  "I don't need three bodyguards—I don't need one for that matter.  Stop acting so ruddy protective."

"I won' even say what I think o' him, then," muttered Hagrid.  He had gone quite red in a clear show of his anger.  "You three had better have told someone abou' this."

"McGonagall knows," Ron confirmed with a nod.  "She said she'll have him kicked out by tonight."

"As she should!"

"But what was Snape doing down here?" said Hermione quietly to herself.  She appeared to be thinking.  "He must have run down right after we left.  Right after we headed to McGonagall, anyway, because he didn't pass us in the hall.  And what is this sudden need for flobberworm bile?"

Harry considered this for the first time.  Hermione had a point.  He must have had a reason for running down here so promptly—something tied to what had occurred, Harry would suspect.  Just to eliminate the possibility, he said, "Perhaps the class needed it for the potion?"

Ron snorted into his cup of water, spraying the table and his face in specks of liquid.  "Right, Harry.  The man hauls off and strikes a student, knows that you intend to get him kicked out, and what does he do?  Jogs down to Hagrid to get some more flobberworm bile for his class."

Harry grinned, as he'd known that his statement was unlikely from before he'd voiced it.  Hermione, not catching Ron's humor, said, "No.  You don't need flobberworm bile for the Nigellus potion."

"Trust you to know the ingredients by heart," said Ron with a nod.  "So, since you're so well-versed in the uses of particular potion ingredients, how about telling us what is normally the function of flobberworm bile?"

"It's used for an assortment of things.  It could have been anything," said Hermione with a shrug.  "But I have no hesitation in saying it must be related to what happened with me."

"How did you say he reacted when you started mouthing off?" asked Harry.

"He got even more insane with anger.  It all happened so fast, it took a few seconds to register.  When I really became aware of his expression again . . ." she trailed off for a moment.

"Go on," urged Harry gently.

She lowered her eyes and began to stir the water in her cup with her index finger.  Her voice was nearly inaudible.  "His expression was very similar to that of Lucius Malfoy's . . . you know, when we were down in the Chamber.  I wasn't really aware of much after that until you came in."

Ron's face took on a sort of sad look.  Hagrid looked somewhere between angry and worried.  Harry took her hand under the table and gave it a reassuring squeeze.  When she looked up at him, he gave her a very small smile.  She returned it, though the gesture was very weak.  She then returned to focusing her attention elsewhere.  Harry felt himself growing angry again. How dare Snape do this? Hermione was doing so much better lately, and now he'd managed to send her back into a depressed state again.

"Where did he go after he left, Hagrid?" demanded Harry.  "Back to the castle?"

Hagrid shook his head.  "No.  He headed back in the direction of Hogsmeade."

"That prat!" snarled Ron.  "He's trying to run for it!"

"He wouldn't be that stupid," argued Harry.  "He'd know Dumbledore would find him—besides, he'd lose his position just the same.  It isn't like he's on the verge of getting arrested—just fired.  There's no reason for him to go on the run."

"None we know of," corrected Ron with a suspicious tone.

"Maybe he was still lookin' fer his flobberworm bile," muttered Hagrid bitterly.  "There's a place in Hogsmeade tha' sells refills o' potion ingredients.  Not as good as the Apothecary in Diagon Alley, but it's a decent substitute."

They all fell silent again for a few moments. It was Ron who finally broke the uncomfortable moments. "I never trusted that bloody git," he snarled. "Never could fully believe that he was really our ally. Guess I was right all along."

"But he helped Draco and I last year," argued Hermione. "Sort of. He covered for us when we escaped Malfoy Manor. And Dumbledore still trusts him. He did try to warn Dumbledore about the attack--but he didn't know about it until it was too late. That wasn't his fault." Again, her voice became quiet and muffled. "I was too much of an idiot to bother mentioning it in time."

Harry could feel his anger growing by the minute. This was what Snape had done. She hadn't started voicing vocal concerns over her supposed betrayal for over a month now. Instead of showing this anger, he pulled her close to him. Their chairs were close as it was, and Hermione leaned her head onto his shoulder. "You're not an idiot. It was not your fault," he whispered to her.

"Sure," she replied in a tone that said quite clearly the opposite.

"You can't trust the man. Who knows how often his loyalties change?" demanded Ron. While seeing his two friends in such a position would normally have been a perfect opportunity for him to torment them, he was not a fool. He knew this was far from the right time.

"I suppose," Hermione agreed softly.

"You three can head back up ter the castle if yeh like," suggested Hagrid after a moment. "Yeh don' have ter come ter me class today. I'll clear it with Professor McGonagall. She'll understand."

"No," said Hermione immediately, pulling away from Harry just a little so she was sitting straight. "We'll stay, Hagrid."

"If yer sure . . ." said Hagrid hesitantly.

"We are," said Harry, seconding what Hermione had begun. Ron nodded in agreement.

Hagrid gave them all a bright smile. "Wan' ter see the new critters? They're out back, now, c'mon. I'll give yeh all the firs' peek!" With that, he stood and began to head toward the back exit of his hut.

Ron and Harry shared looks from across the table that said quite clearly their apprehension at seeing whatever Hagrid had now. Hermione, still extremely subdued, kept her eyes averted.

The three followed Hagrid after a moment's hesitation, Harry still holding Hermione's hand. Once outside, they saw a small paddock some distance beyond Hagrid's empty pumpkin patch. The wood railings surrounding it on all sides did not permit them to see what it contained from this distance. However, they could hear faint growling from inside and this did not encourage them.

Hagrid was already standing over by the paddock, looking down into it was a loving expression like one would direct at a puppy. This did nothing to reassure them, as Hagrid had been known to give such looks to vicious dragons, giant murderous spiders, and Blast-Ended Skrewts before. "Come on over, now, don' worry! Yeh'll love 'em!"

None of them made any move to come forward. "So," Ron said casually to Harry, "how much are you willing to pay on the odds that whatever is in there is worse than the Skrewts?"

Harry, remembering the giant, ferocious, armored slugs from two years before, shook his head fervently. "Nothing could be worse than the Skrewts.  Close, maybe, but not worse . . ."

"And on that cheery note . . ." said Ron, beginning to walk over toward the paddock. Harry and Hermione followed at a distance. Harry was walking slowly to keep with Hermione's pace, as she seemed completely uninterested in everything around her.

Harry and Hermione arrived a few moments after Ron. By the time they got to the paddock, Ron was already staring down into it with an expression of amazement. They both followed his lead,

placing their hands on the wooden railing and leaning inward to see what it contained.

Inside, much to their surprise, were creatures about twice the size of an adult man's hand. They varied in color. Some were black, some white and some gold. They were all completely solid in color—one color covered their whole body. They looked almost like newborn kittens. They certainly had the same basic make-up--four legs, and long, swishy tail. Their heads were what set them apart from kittens the most. A small, roundish head with long ears that flopped downward like a rabbit's, reaching past their bottom jaw. Their eyes were, no matter their body color, a deep velvet purple. Their mouths and noses jutted outward in a muzzle that was inappropriate for their small size. Inside their mouths were rows of the sharp teeth of a carnivore. Their bodies were covered in long fur, so long that it dragged on the ground as they walked. But somehow, none of them looked the least bit dirty.

These animals didn't like one another very much. Many were fighting viciously with the others. Underneath all their hair, they had tiny paws with claws like a feline's, only much more dangerous looking. A few looked up at the three teenagers with curious expressions on their faces. Their eyes were so alert they seemed human in nature.

"They're presagi!" exclaimed Hagrid. "Adorable aren' they?"

Ron was looking at Hagrid with a mixture of shock and horror. "Why'd you bring them here?" he asked in a rather strangled tone. "Even one presage is bad news. This many is lunacy!"

"Aw, come now, Ron," said Hagrid sternly. "Don' tell me yeh believe everythin' yeh read. Some people may not like 'em, but whether they saw 'em or not, didn' make any difference. It still would have happened, no matter what is said. They just warn yeh."

Ron shook his head in exasperation, opening his mouth as if to say something, then deciding against it.

"What?" asked Harry. He couldn't see what Ron was so opposed to in these little creatures. Odd looking though they were, they were sort of cute in an off-beat kind of way. Very cute in comparison to Hagrid's usual standard—they were positively adorable in comparison to the Skrewts.

"They're presagi," said Hagrid again. "Some people tend ter be superstitious abou' 'em."  He gave Ron a sideways glance as he said this.

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Presage means omen in French," explained Hermione, speaking up for the first time in quite a while. "It is common myth that a presage will tell you what you are destined for. There is one presage meant for each witch or wizard. They don't always find each other, but that's the way it is nonetheless. Each one symbolizes something different. Black is shadow or night, or danger and horror to come. Gold is sun or solar, which means you have a happy future. White is lunar, or moon, which means purity and success in the face of hardships—so basically a mixture of good and bad. People have been known to blame misfortune on the presagi before. People have even killed their presage because of it. It's awfully cruel. Ridiculous, really. Because if the myth is true, it was going to happen anyway—the presage didn't effect the outcome in any way. People just always want to have something other than themselves to blame for their problems, and sadly, the presagi are often times the object of their blame."

Hagrid beamed at her, but she was still too sullen to really acknowledge his reaction. "Well done, Hermione. I didn' think many people knew so much about these little guys. Good fer you."

Ron, on the other hand, rolled his eyes with a grimace at the presagi.  "Let's not give her reason to start another society to help 'misunderstood' creatures.  Spew was bad enough."

Hermione glared daggers at him.  "It is S.P.E.W., Ron, for the last time, and what makes you think I've given up on the house elves?  I intend to start a new campaign soon—needless to say I wasn't able to last year, but I've not ended it.  I've just excluded you from the society because of your horrible attitude."

"Oh," said Ron brightly.  "Well, who said a bad attitude never yields good things?"

"So you're going to find a presage for each of the class?" asked Harry quickly, seeing Hermione's face contort in anger and attempting to cut her reply off before their argument could get anymore heated.

Hagrid nodded. "Hopefully. A lot won't find their matches in this particular bundle, but we'll give 'em one anyway, jus' fer learnin' purposes." He glanced at his watch. "An' class is jus' abou' ter start, so I should head out. You three'll have ter wait with the rest o' the class ter pick out yours."

"Gladly," muttered Ron with a nervous look at the presagi. This reminded Harry of their third year when he was so terrified of the idea of the Grim. He supposed that Ron was more superstitious because he'd grown up in a wizard family.

They took their seats in their usual spots on the grass where Hagrid taught the class on nice days. They waited for everyone to arrive, and for Hagrid to once more explain about the presagi. Luckily, this class consisted of only Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and a few Ravenclaws. Harry doubted Hermione was up to dealing with the Slytherins in her current state. She was still quiet and didn't pay much attention to anything. She was slowly pulling up blades of grass in a distracted way. Of course, this was nothing too different from what many of his classmates were doing. Some distance away, out of Hagrid's sight, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan had captured an earthworm and were quietly making it do odd things with their wands. Harry nudged Ron and pointed this out to him. Ron turned just in time to see the worm begin moving up and down in a dance routine that no creature without legs should ever have been able to do, while Seamus turned it turquoise. Ron snorted quietly and Harry grinned, but not even this abnormally hilarious sight could do anything to bring Hermione out of her silence.

Finally, Hagrid led the class to the paddock. Once Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil had stopped shrieking their delight at the sight of the "cute, furry kitties," Hagrid told them all that one person at a time was to step into the paddock and wait for one of the presagi to choose them.

He went by alphabetical order. By the time he called Hermione, only three kids had actually gotten matched with a presagi. Those who had were now holding theirs on their laps. Lavender Brown was delighted to have gotten a golden one. Seamus had a black one, much to his dismay. The other Hufflepuff boy who'd found his match was playing with a black one himself, though he seemed completely unaffected by its color.

Hermione stepped into the paddock with no real expression. She looked down at all the furry creatures scurrying about beneath her feet. None came close to her.

Hagrid sighed in disappointment. "All righ' then, Hermione, come on out--"

He stopped when he saw, out of nowhere, a presage smaller than all the rest step out and curl up at Hermione's feet in contentment. It was clearly unlike the others and not just in size. It had patches of all three colors all over it. Its left eye was surrounded by black and its right in gold. Below that, its muzzle was solid white. The rest of its body was a haphazard pattern of the three colors. Hermione knelt and picked it up, stunned at the appearance of it. She'd never read of one like this.  She absentmindedly stroked its soft, long fur and it closed its eyes happily.

She stepped back out, holding it securely in her hands, as it fit easily. It was still curled in a ball, making relaxed clicking noises and dozing lazily. She looked to Hagrid. All the class was silent at this odd sight. Even Seamus stopped griping miserably about his misfortune.

"She was the odd one," Hagrid mused. "Wasn' sure who would get her. I can' find anything anywhere abou' a multicolored one. It's a rare one, if not the only one of her kind. Sweetest of 'em all, though."

Hermione went over to sit by Harry and Ron. As soon as she had sat back down, the presage crawled from her hands and into Harry's lap. Harry looked down in surprise. So far, once a presage had been matched, it had adamantly refused to go to anyone else. Now it was his turn to look to Hagrid.

"Give it back ter Hermione," said Hagrid, appearing dumbfounded.

Harry nodded and handed her the presage. It crawled from her hands and rubbed against the arm she was leaning back on in a loving feline fashion, then turned to do the same to Harry. Ron made a motion to pet it, and it slunk away, looking at him in uncertainty and suspicion.

"It looks . . . it looks like she's bonded with the both o' yeh!" exclaimed Hagrid in confusion. "I never knew tha' was even possible."

When the presage curled up in between Harry and Hermione on the sun-warmed grass, appearing quite happy, the two looked up and caught one another's eyes.  Both were confused.  Harry was wondering if Hermione knew something about this that the rest of them did not, but she appeared just as lost as the rest of them.

"Okay, okay, back on track," called Hagrid, though he kept glancing at them from the corner of his eye.  "Next up . . ."

The time passed slowly.  Harry and Hermione said nothing about the strangeness of their presage.  They simply stroked it and were rewarded by its happy, soft clicks which Harry supposed were the presagi equivalent of purring.  Ron stayed as far away from it as possible.  By the time they reached Harry's name, Hagrid was convinced enough that this presage had bonded to the both of them that he skipped right over him. 

Finally, Ron was called.  He stepped into the paddock with worry.  Only six of the twenty students had found matches, counting Harry and Hermione.  He was praying he would not be one of the group that did.  He was not so lucky.  A few moments later, a pure white presage twined itself around Ron's legs.  He sighed and picked it up, looking at it in a mixture of apprehension and acceptance.  He shrugged as he got back out of the paddock.  "It's not black, at least, though I'd have preferred gold.  And it is kind of okay . . . I guess,"  he said begrudgingly, taking a seat beside his friends.

"If it makes yeh feel any better, Ron, on'y ten percent o' people get golden ones.  It's pretty rare," said Hagrid.  "How many people do yeh know who have nothin' but happy times ter come?"

"Yeah, but I could always hope," said Ron, looking at Harry with a grin.

Hagrid gave them all the last ten minutes of class to get used to their presagi, and took the kids that had not been matched up to the paddock to pick out animals so that they would not be excluded.  Seamus and Dean paired up to work together, though Seamus could still not look at his presage without an expression of loathing.  Hermione had noticed this by now and was glaring at him every so often, muttering things under her breath about how he shouldn't blame the presage for his future.  Neville had gotten a white one, like Ron.  Unlike Ron, however, he appeared completely at ease with the world for once since Harry had first met him. 

"Everyone's life entails good and bad things, Ron," he'd said calmly when Ron had begun griping again.  "We should just be happy that we don't have only bad times, right?" 

Ron allowed Parvati to pet his presage while Harry and Hermione studied theirs, which was still dozing.

"So, on a scale of one to ten, just how odd is all this?" asked Harry quietly.

"Nine," muttered Hermione grimly.  "I've never read anything about a multicolored presage, and I've read a lot on them.  They've fascinated me since I first discovered what they were in third year.  Never once has anything of this sort been mentioned.  Quite the contrary, in fact.  All the text says that they are always a solid color.  And only once before has a presage bonded to two people.  It was back in the fourteenth century, when people were particularly superstitious."

"What happened to the two it bonded to?" asked Harry, somewhat apprehensive of her answer.

"The presage was black.  They died two years later in an Auror battle."

Harry looked back down at his Presage.  It suddenly didn't seem so cute.  It seemed almost eerie.  He noticed grimly that the most prominent color was black.  He pointed this out to Hermione.

"I told you, I'm not superstitious," was all she said in response, but he could see her eyes flash in uncertainty.  "I suppose the blend of all colors means that all three await us.  Though I'd have assumed that a white presage would mean the same thing."

"Comforting," muttered Harry under his breath, quietly enough so that Hermione did not catch it.  "So you don't believe that these presagi are telling you what is to come in your life?"

Hermione shrugged.  "Not really.  I suppose that there are the handful of people that it has been true for.  That's the way it is in all cases.  Some will be right and some will be wrong.  But I don't bet my life on it, no.  Why?  Do you?"

"I don't really know enough to decide," said Harry, giving an answer that would satisfy her but did not necessarily reply to what she'd asked.

Any further conversation was halted by Hagrid calling for their attention.  They were instructed to put their presagi back in the paddock—"They'll find yeh again next class.  They're bonded ter yeh after all."— and head back up to the castle.

Hermione seemed less closed off through lunch, but it was apparent that she was still fatigued and she said little.  She didn't eat much, Harry observed during the meal.  He knew she still had the tendency to go off food when something was bothering her.  He glanced up at the High Table and was somewhat appeased to see that Snape's chair was conspicuously empty.  McGonagall was also gone, dealing with him, Harry supposed.

After lunch ended, Harry, Ron, and Hermione climbed up the first five flights of stairs together.  Hermione left them on the fifth floor to head off to her Arithmancy class while Harry and Ron trudged up the next two flights of stairs to the trapdoor leading up to Professor Trelawny's tower room.

"Do we have to go, Harry?" groaned Ron, looking up at the trapdoor with distaste.  "Can't we just skive off?"

"Believe me, it's a tempting idea," agreed Harry.  "Probably not the best one, though.  I don't want detention my first day back.  That's one of the few things that could make this day worse."

"But isn't Divination a detention in itself?" demanded Ron as Harry pulled the string to lower the trapdoor.  "Why is it that we haven't dropped this class?"

"Because the only other options are Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Muggle Studies, none of which we want," said Harry, turning back to look at his friend. 

"At least we'd have Arithmancy with Hermione," he suggested hopefully.

"I've seen the stuff they do.  It's awful.  So's Ancient Runes.  And neither of us need Muggle Studies.  Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt you to take it, but I don't suppose you'd be particularly interested.  We wouldn't be with Hermione anyway, she's years ahead of us.  We'd start at basic level, with the third years."

Ron grimaced and began climbing the rope ladder.  "Well, when you put it that way . . .  We'd better start counting then, mate.  Only two more years of Divination to go."

"Yeah.  Only."

As usual, they found a table near the back and by a window.  Sinking low into a comfy armchair, Harry had to admit that the one perk to this class was the seating.  All the other classes were full of hard-backed chairs.  At least here it was easy to sleep.  Too bad there aren't chairs like this in History of Magic.  Then we wouldn't all have to sleep with our heads on textbooks, he mused.

Trelawny was not yet visible, but Harry had no doubt that she would soon sweep in, in a manner to make herself look mysterious.  Glancing around himself, he realized that this year, he would be having this class with the Ravenclaws.  There were many other sixth years around him wearing blue and gold ties.

Sure enough, the moment class was scheduled to start, Professor Trelawny appeared.  She jumped in the trapdoor and turned to face them all.  "Welcome, sixth years!" she said softly, turning to face them.  "I will start off by saying that this year is all important.  This year is where your previous three years of training will all come together.  This year is the pivotal point!"

By this time, she'd managed to make Harry, Ron, and most the Gryffindor boys roll their eyes and had successfully captivated Parvati and Lavender.

"What's so great about this year?" asked a Ravenclaw girl from the table beside Harry and Ron. 

Trelawny turned to the girl and gave her a tight-lipped smile.  Harry got the impression that she didn't like this girl very much.  "This year is the center, Casey.  This year will separate the true from the false and the talented from the hopeless.  This year is when your futures will be beheld to you, if you can find them!"

"This year is when you learn that you need to vary sentence beginnings," Ron muttered, not bothering to keep his voice down.  Harry had a hard time fighting back a laugh and the Ravenclaw girl looked in over in what appeared to be approval.  Just about everyone in class reacted to this in some way, with exception of Trelawny herself.  She acted as though she had not heard him.

"Take out your books and open them to section seven.  We will be beginning with the reading of star glasses."

The class was dull, spent mostly reading from the textbook.  Finally, three-quarters of the way through, Trelawny instructed them all to put away their books, and announced that she would be handing out the star glasses.

She swooped around the room, a giant, glittering, caped insect that set star glasses in front of each of them.  Harry looked his over, remembering from the reading not to touch it.  It looked much like a regular drinking glass, only the crystal it was made of was much thicker than that of a drinking glass and was stained a misty light blue.  It was short and squat, not too deep at all.  Had it been a drinking glass, it would have been able to contain very little.  It was filled with about an inch of silvery water.

"Do you understand anything about this star glass stuff?" Harry muttered to Ron once he was sure Trelawny was out of hearing range. 

Ron raised an eyebrow at him.  "You think I actually read the text?  What I ever do to make you think I follow directions in this class?" he asked.

Harry sighed, turning his attention back to the front of the room, where Trelawny was assuming her position.  He didn't care about this subject any more than Ron did, but he wanted to pass his O.W.L.s, so he felt a vague pull to work as hard as he could—for the next two weeks, at least.

"Okay, according to the reading, who can tell me why the water in your star glasses has a silver tone to it?" asked Trelawny.

Lavender Brown's hand shot up in a fashion similar to Hermione.  This was the only class Harry could ever remember her speaking in willingly.  Trelawny called on her and she didn't hesitate to say—in a voice like Hermione's as well—"It's water that has been purified by a unicorn's horn."

"Correct.  Five points to Gryffindor.  Now, this water is extremely difficult to acquire, so do your best not to spill it.  There will be dire consequences should you do so.  Taking this into consideration, Mr. Longbottom, could you please scoot your chair away from the table, so as no unfortunate accidents occur?" 

Neville turned bright red with embarrassment and drew his face away from the star glass, which he'd been looking into.  He scooted his chair back from the table, looking depressed.

Trelawny went on.  "The next step is adding in the powder.  You all have some in the dishes on your tables.  Who can tell me what the powder is?   Mr. Weasley, how about you?"

Ron's eyes widened and he straightened in his chair.  His book was closed at his right elbow and he appeared trapped.  He reached forward and pinched some powder in between his fingers, raising it upward and letting it sift back down into the dish.  It was grayish in color and looked very fine in texture.  "Er . . . pixie dust?" he said, saying the first thing that popped into his mind.  He turned as red as Neville when a wave of sniggers crossed the room.

Trelawny sighed melodramatically.  "Not quite, Mr. Weasley.  Miss Clarimonde, what about you?  What is this dust?"

The Ravenclaw girl who had spoken out earlier tensed up, looking just as startled as Ron had.  Unlike Ron, she had an answer that she didn't hesitate to give.  "Phoenix ashes," she said.

"Yes.  Well done.  Take five points to Ravenclaw," said Trelawny.  "Now, for those of you who did not read the text I assigned," her eyes wandered in Ron's direction, "the reaction of these two rare substances is very powerful.  If you have the true inner eye, the moment the ashes hit the water, you will see into your own future."

"So . . . we'll see our entire lives flash before us like a movie?" asked Dean.

"No.  You will see a particular part of your future.  Something pivotal that the higher powers determine is necessary for you to see.  Only one thing.  Then, those of you who do not have any skill, will see nothing at all."

A tremendous crash came from the center of the room, cutting off any further words Trelawny had intended to speak.  Neville, who had been reaching for the ashes from his distanced seat, had toppled his chair forward on accident.  He sprawled forward onto the table where he, Dean, and Seamus were sitting, effectively knocking over all three star glasses and toppling the dish of ashes so that gray powder rose in a great cloud around their area.  Meanwhile, the legs of his chair had hit the underside of the table behind him, where two Ravenclaws had been sitting.  One of them managed to keep their star glass from tipping, but the other ended up tossing water into the air in the attempt, with the result that he himself and Lavender Brown ended up getting wet.  Lavender shrieked, and all those that were enveloped in the dust cloud were coughing, trying frantically to get out of the ash.  The rest of the class was snickering appreciatively.

"Some great Seer she is," Ron said, breathless from laughing, as he and Harry were lucky enough to be out of the immediate range of the dust.  "If she could actually tell the future, she'd have known that making Neville scoot away from the table would only make things worse.  Wouldn't it have just been easier to let Neville lost one glass, instead of four and a whole dish of ash?"

After several moments of crying out hysterically, Trelawny came to her senses enough to vanish the ash from the air, and put the tables in their right positions.  To say she looked angry would be an understatement.  He pointed at Neville.  "Mr. Longbottom, come up here!  Everyone who lost water or ashes, please come up for refills.  Everyone else, get to work!"

Apprehensively, the students who were not involved in Neville's catastrophe all took pinches of phoenix ashes and sprinkled them into the star glasses.  Harry saw his water turn glittery as the ashes hit the surface.  In that instant, upon contact, he felt a searing pain in his skull, and suddenly his eyes were attuned to nothing but the liquid.  He was no longer in class—he was somewhere else entirely.

It took him a moment to get his bearings.  It was somewhat like when he'd accidentally ventured into Dumbledore's pensieve, only much stranger.  It was clear to him almost immediately where he was—the clearing he'd discovered over the summer.  Only he wasn't there—he was just watching, from the very edge of the forest surrounding it.  It was as though only his eyes were there.  The rest of him was conspicuously missing.

Before his eyes, he saw a confusing sight:  A unicorn, lapping water from the pool.  Behind it, a cougar was slinking silently.  It's eyes were narrowed and cold—murderous, the eyes of a predator going in for the kill.  It stopped entirely five feet away and sank to a crouch, preparing to leap.  Harry wanted to yell out to the unicorn, but he could not.  He watched in horror as the cougar pounced.  The unicorn whinnied and reared, managing to buck the cougar off.  Before the unicorn could recover, the cougar swung a giant paw at its face.  The sheer force of the blow toppled the creature.  The cougar slashed its claws deep into the unicorn's side, staining its ivory fur silver.  It let out a triumphant roar which reverberated around the clearing, echoing menacingly and sending a flock of ebony birds with piercing golden eyes soaring up to the night sky in which they blended seamlessly. 

A moment later, Harry felt as though he were waking from a dream.  His eyes were already open, but it was as though they had not been, and he saw that he was back in the Divination classroom.  Nobody was paying too close of attention to him.  Many kids were still leaning over their glasses, their eyes transfixed in a trance-like state, unblinking.  Some were muttering in annoyance at their glasses.  It took Harry a moment to realize what had happened.  The whole scene had been no more than a vision.  Something the mixture of the substances had brought about.

A vision from the future.  A vision that was going to happen.

He felt a dull throbbing in his temples.  How could the slaying of a unicorn by a cougar in his parents' clearing have a pivotal effect on his life to come? 

For the first time, he became aware of Ron calling his name.  He looked over at his friend who was looking at him in worry.  "You okay?" he demanded, once he finally had Harry's attention.

Harry nodded.  "Yeah.  Fine," he muttered distractedly.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Ron commented.  "What did you see in your glass?  I didn't get a reaction from mine."

For some reason, Harry was hesitant to state what he'd seen.  He wasn't sure what it was that made him hold back, but he ended up shaking his head in as a response.  "I don't know how I saw anything," he said, more in an effort to change the subject than anything else.  "It's not like I've ever been a Seer.  I've never seen anything before.  Not really."

"What is it that you saw?" demanded Ron, not to be deterred.

Harry bit his lip.  "I'm not sure, exactly."

He was saved from Ron's reply by Professor Trelawny's delighted call from the front of the classroom.  "Oh, wonderful!  Most of you have managed to see in your star glasses!  We're already ten minutes past this class's designated end, so for homework, if you saw something in your star glass, write at least one foot of parchment on what it was and why you think you saw it.  If you saw nothing, write the same length on why you think you did not see anything.  Due Thursday.  Class dismissed!"

Ron and Harry were silent as they made their way down the rope ladder and into the halls, which were pretty empty.  This section of the seventh floor was usually deserted, and while they could hear and see some students way off, there were not many.  Aside from Trelawny's class, and the Astrology class which took place late at night, there were no classes held on this floor.

Hermione was waiting for them when they got down.  "What kept you?" she asked when they reached her.

"Trelawny forgot how to tell time.  If she ever knew in the first place," said Ron with a grimace skyward.  He turned to Harry.  "So what did you see?"

Harry had to fight hard to keep a groan at bay.  He hadn't wanted to bring it up with Ron, and definitely not with Hermione.  Not today.  She had enough on her mind as it was.  "I told you, I'm not sure what it was."

"No, you're not sure what it meant," corrected Ron.  "You forget—I know you well enough to tell when you're lying.  But if you don't want to share, that's fine.  Just tell me and I'll back off."

"I don't want to talk about it," said Harry.  "I'd rather figure out what it means before I say anything."

"Is it something bad, do you think?" asked Ron hesitantly.  Harry could see his eyes look quickly at Hermione.

Harry shrugged.  "I honestly don't know.  I don't understand it at all."

"What are you two on about?" demanded Hermione. 

"Star glasses," said Ron.  "You drop phoenix ashes—"

"—Into water purified by a unicorn and supposedly you see a pivotal moment in your future," Hermione finished in a bored tone.  Seeing Ron's startled expression, she rolled her eyes.  "Just because I think it's a terribly useless branch of magic doesn't mean I don't understand it.  Star glasses are said to be one of the more reliable types of Divination, but I still think it's all rubbish.  So Harry saw something he doesn't want to talk about and you saw . . ."  She left the sentence hanging, waiting for him to finish it.

"Nothing," said Ron.  "Just water and phoenix ashes."

Hermione looked to Harry.  She gave him a small smile.  Harry could sense that she was much more at ease then when they'd parted an hour before.  He knew from experience how Arithmancy tended to calm Hermione's nerves.  He never understood how, though—he knew that Arithmancy would only sink him into a fouler temper.  "Whatever you saw, don't worry.  I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation.  I personally think that when the two substances blend, it effects certain people's minds temporarily.  You see things, and people like Trelawny claim that it's the future.  Really, it's just visions that the chemical compounds form when mixed.  Certain people's brains are made up in a specific way that lets it effect them—like yours.  Ron's brain wasn't effected because the magic from the combination doesn't cause a reaction for him.  I've seen it in scientific studies.  It looks quite reasonable to me, though it does contradict all the books on natural magic that I've read, so I'm not sure which is true, but it doesn't matter.  It's nothing to bother about."

Harry nodded, feeling that Hermione's answer was logical.  Still, though, something nagged at him.  He knew that while he could shelve the vision, put it away in some distant corner of his mind and write it off as no more than a magical reaction to a chemical compound, he wouldn't forget it entirely.