Another class with Ginny next: Divination. Looking about for a door, she was perplexed by a ladder into what could only be the attic. She followed Ginny up, cursing wizard robes, and into a dim, rather incense-filled cupboard of a room. She locked eyes immediately with the woman who had to be Professor Trelawney.
She was not old, but not in the bloom of youth. A dress hung on her skinny figure, complemented with a strand of pears. Her make-up was unfortunately applied. Her eyes… deep blue eyes swirled when they met Erin's, and took on a violet cast. There was something in here eyes. This woman could… she could see, the woman could know things, like… like Erin herself sometimes wondered if she did.
"Oh!" Professor Trelawney might only have been speaking to herself, but Erin heard. Activity ceased as the other students became uncomfortably aware of the silent connection between their teacher and her newest pupil.
So this was it! A muggle – why would they ever make exception for a muggle? But a seer… ah! That was something else altogether! She clenched her teeth – betrayal! She had spoken to them of truth, and they had not even respected her enough to give her the truth about herself! Her mouth twisted with bitterness, and she grabbed the sides and half-slid, half-jumped back down the ladder, into the hallway, landing in a feral crouch. She raised herself up with the fluidity of a panther, and stood still, breathing heavily, confused. Suddenly, she tore down the hallway towards the Gryffindor common room, then up into the girls' dorm. She collapsed onto her bed, still feeling more lost and angry than sad. She didn't cry. She lay on her stomach for a few minutes, clutching her pillow to her almost desperately, feeling as though it was she caught in the whirlpools of the seer's eyes. Of her own eyes...
Hermione had been there when Erin came rushing through the common room. Deciding what to do at once, she followed the path of silence up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Erin lay on her cot shoulders heaving with exertion and emotion. Hermione's mouth opened slightly at the sight, but she approached nonetheless.
"It's fine." Erin muttered, mostly to relieve Hermione of having to start the conversation. Even just saying it, helping out a friend, made her feel a bit better. As she calmed down, she even felt a strange kind of happiness, a sort of pride. "They didn't let me remember, let me come here because I convinced them of the sanctity of truth or anything. They let me in because of my eyes." She looked up at Hermione. "They mean I'm a seer, you know." Despite the gravity of this news, Erin's mouth twitched into a half-smile. "I guess I can see things in people. I suppose I could see how much of your brain was full up with spells and history and things before you even opened your mouth. It's ruddy impressive, it is, by the way." Poor Hermione, Erin thought. She had come prepared to be the strong one, and now Erin was spouting what sounded like utter nonsense and grinning like a fool. "Sorry to not be sad." She said, then couldn't contain a giggle at this any longer. "I was just kind of, surprised and, you know, confused." Obviously disconcerted, Hermione patted Erin on the back and said it was "quite alright."
"I really should get back to class now." Erin shared this bit of information as it dawned on her. Hermione gave an affronted "of course!" and let her go, shaking her head in bewilderment.
Erin hurried through the halls and made her way up the ladder for the second time that day feeling rather uncomfortable. Preoccupied, she slipped and almost didn't catch herself in time. She sighed longingly for her broomstick, then popped her head up into the stiflingly hot room, hoisting herself up to numerous looks of disapproval – not, however, Trelawney's. The educator did not have the means to remain both disapproving and shocked at once, and had opted for the latter.
"Mmm, er… what was your name again, dear?" Erin blinked.
"Erin Hightower. I'm the, uh, the muggle." She added unnecessarily when a name felt inadequate. Trelawney nodded.
"Yes, of course – I see now." She seemed to finally remember something. "I suppose that's why they didn't-" Erin nodded curtly, her lips in a grim line.
"I suppose." She replied distastefully. At least, she thought, I'm not back… at home. "So, can this class actually… help, you know, develop it?"
All at once, Trelawney was aflutter. "Oh my girl, my dear girl. The eye alone is not very useful, but with it you can be taught to read the leaves, discern the heavens, the uses of palmistry… why, interpretation grows more and more advanced until… until…" she seemed to forget her surroundings as she spoke, "All secrets are made plain!" her voice was lowered dramatically, almost a whisper.
This Erin had to doubt, but she admitted Trelawney struck a dramatic figure when she wanted to. In fact, Erin acknowledged, the term "drama queen" sprung readily to mind. Erin sighed. This lesson promised to be a long one.
Two hours later, she could testify to the fact. If not for the woman's eyes, Erin would have had trouble with more than taking her seriously; Erin would have had trouble not openly deriding the old bat. However, since the woman obviously did possess some ability (no matter how infrequently it manifested), Erin could not disregard her altogether – though more and more, there seemed ample reason to. Erin was actually, after that idiotic couple of hours, beginning to wonder whether the inner eye really existed. She snorted at the thought. No, no, probably a momentary lapse in judgment, a moment of misplaced credulousness caused by her recent discovery of magic and introduction into the world in which it reigned. Although unable to dismiss it altogether, Erin did manage to put the issue to the back of her mind.