A/N: A pox on all of those people who have given me bad reviews. (which is no one, so far, so don't sweat it.) Thank you everyone! (PLEASE tell me how to keep paragraph spacing in the formatting. I still can't figure it out!)

Disclaimer: I would never dream of taking the rights for this story. I'm doing it all just for the pure pleasure of seeing things unfold the way I want them to.

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Chapter Ten -

Professor Trelawney

The next morning at breakfast, Ginny handed Harry his new schedule, and sat down next to him to peruse hers.

Harry smiled at her, even though she didn't see it, and looked down at the parchment he held.

He very nearly had a heart attack.

"Why, may I ask, are we having our Defense Against the Dark Arts class in the divination tower?"

Ron gasped, and snatched up his own timetable to confirm Harry's question. "No way!" He said wide-eyed. "They wouldn't do that to us. Not this year..." He trailed off.

"Maybe Trelawney's just being nice and letting the new Defense teacher take her classroom for awhile." Harry said hopefully.

Ron latched on to this hope with every bit of strength he had. "That's probably right. She's just being helpful."

"I don't think so." Interrupted Hermione skeptically. "Just because Firenze has to stay on the first floor, doesn't mean that professor Trelawney isn't teaching in her own classroom this year. It's not like they would be sharing a classroom or anything."

"Hermione!" whined Ron. "Don't you dare tell me Trelawney is the one teaching us Defense! And definitely not our first class! I can't see that woman today!" Ron lowered his head to the tabletop, and began to bang his forehead roughly on the surface.

"Well, it makes sense doesn't it?" Hermione shook her head at her timetable.

Harry growled in frustration. "A little too much sense. I wonder why she isn't using our regular defense classroom?"

"Maybe she just wants to teach in a comfortable place?" Hermione suggested.

"At least she isn't supposed to be teaching us about stupid pointless tarot readings or telling us about how we're going to kick the bucket soon." Ron said hopefully, plunking his elbow solidly on the table to prop his chin up with his palm.

Harry knotted his hands into his scruffy hair over his ears in frustration. "You weren't the one she kept making those predictions about."

Hermione laughed nervously. "You mean she didn't stop saying things like that after I pointed out to her that she was an idiot? There's no way she's letting me into any class of hers after what I said to her."

Ron looked angry. "Well, she's the one who said she had never seen anyone as 'hopelessly mundane' as you. That in itself should be proof enough that she hasn't a clue what she's talking about."

Hermione blushed, and mumbled "Thanks Ron."

Ron blushed too, and looked at Harry with the terrified expression that clearly stated he had not intended that sentence to have so much meaning.

Harry smiled, and decided a change of subject was in order.

"I never asked you guys before, but what elective class did you choose?" Harry tried to be nonchalant, but he was really hoping that one of them or both would be in the same class as him.

"Media." Said Hermione bluntly. "I wanted to get the teacher's opinion of House-elf-enslavement, and it could help us solve some of the problems we've had with Skeeter and some of the other reporters at the Daily prophet. I also thought the art thing could be kind of nice." She bit into her toast, and chewed thoughtfully.

Ron looked a little disappointed as he said, "I chose Philosophy of Magic."

"Me too." Said Harry with a sigh of relief.

"That would have been my second choice, If I had been allowed one." Hermione said, looking slightly annoyed that she hadn't been given the option. "It sounds fascinating! Being able to talk about Dark and Light magical arts and all of those grey areas in between!" She sighed. "You'll have to tell me everything that the professor says."

Harry looked at his schedule. "We don't have it until Wednesday... But it looks as though it's happening in the Arithmancy classroom. Maybe it's taught by the same teacher?"

Hermione grinned. "Maybe I can just set aside some time to talk with professor Vector. If she's teaching the class, I'm sure she wouldn't mind me asking her a few questions about it."

"I kind of figured I should know a lot of the things she says. I mean... What with Voldmort being on my tail all the time, the more I know about all of that stuff the better..." Harry trailed off. He hoped he hadn't just said too much. He really didn't want to talk about the prophecy just yet, and if Ron and Hermione were at all suspicious, they would soon find out one way or another.

"I know, mate." Said Ron. "That's why I decided to take the class too. It didn't look all that appealing on my OWL form, but it seemed like it could be pretty useful."

Ron and Hermione broke out into a conversation about how the third choice on their OWL form – Magical Music – sounded like too much of a bird course.

Harry let out a breath of relief. By the looks on their faces, his friends remained completely oblivious. He thought back for a moment to the first Order meeting he had witnessed. At the time, he had been preoccupied with Percy's attack, but he remembered something that Dumbledore had said about Harry and his friends being detectives in their own right. At the moment, he couldn't see it, but he knew it wouldn't last. He had to tell them of the Prophecy, and soon, or else they would find out on their own, and they would be asking Harry why he didn't trust them enough to tell, then they would hate him for not trusting. It needed to be told before the whole thing blew up in his face.

The conversation about magical music class had somehow morphed into an argument. Ron said he loved the newest song by the 'Weird Sisters', and Hermione responded that they were just perpetuating the stereotype of brainless rocker witches and didn't have any sort of personal message to send out like a proper musical group.

Ron seemed to have noticed Harry's inattention at the breakfast table, but he said nothing. The argument he was having with Hermione required all of his energy.

Hermione looked at her watch, and gasped. "We're going to be late for Defense if we don't hurry up!"

"I think I'd like to be late today." Ron said wistfully looking at the half-finished plate of food in front of him.

Hermione grabbed his arm, and dragged him off the bench. "Just because you don't like the idea of that woman teaching you again, doesn't give you the right to slack off. I don't like it either, but I am determined to get a good mark in this class."

Harry grabbed a last piece of toast for himself, and one for the still hungry-looking Ron.

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In the hallway below the trapdoor entrance to the Divination tower, all the sixth-year Gryffindors stood waiting with perplexed looks on their faces.

The only ones who looked even remotely excited were Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, both of whom had been absolutely enthralled by professor Trelawney's Divination classes.

The trapdoor opened just as Ron, Harry and Hermione arrived, and the silver ladder descended to the floor dramatically.

"Welcome." Said the mystical voice of professor Trelawney as everyone climbed in and took a look around.

The classroom had changed somewhat since the last time Harry had been there. Where before, there had been a mishmash of wingbacked armchairs and pouffes grouped around small circular tables, there was now only pouffes stuffed into corners and along the edges of the walls. A brand new soft woven area rug covered the hardwood floor in the middle of the room.

The smell of incense still clogged nasal cavities and a haze of purple smoke still rolled about the ceiling. Harry could see a cupboard filled with crystal balls, tea-cups, tarot decks and such over near the window, as though Trelawney hadn't yet given up the hope that she might go back to teaching the art of divining people's futures.

Trelawney herself stood glitteringly in a small beam of sunlight that peeked through the closed curtains. She looked more grasshopper-like than ever with an emerald green shawl, and a long flowing brown dress.

Trelawney sniffed disapprovingly as she saw Hermione climb out of the trapdoor, but Hermione ignored her, and sauntered over to the pouffe next to Ron and Harry.

"This year, I have been given the honour," Trelawney said the word with distaste, "Of teaching you all how to smack each other over the heads with great big clubs."

Harry gaped. What was this woman doing here?

"I would like to make it clear that I hold no respect whatsoever for violence of any kind, and as far as I am concerned, any and all things taught in this class should never be used under any circumstance."

Harry looked over at Ron and Hermione, and he was even more surprised to see that although Ron looked just as stupified as Harry felt, Hermione was giggling at what Trelawney had said.

"This year I have been given permission to teach those of you who are inclined towards violence and attacks how to control yourselves when it comes to these disgusting displays of brutality."

Hermione obviously couldn't hold in her laughter any more, and let out a loud, "Ha!"

Trelawney looked at her imposingly. "If I have been correct these past few years, Miss Granger, in my assessments of your future and your personality, You haven't much longer to be so uppity. I would listen closely to my words, were I you."

Hermione was able to subdue her laughter for a moment, until professor Trelawney had turned her back, and Hermione doubled over with silent laughter once more.

Throughout the entire class, Trelawney lectured them on the importance of staying subdued in times of attack. Hermione, Ron and Harry all giggled at her, alternately stuffing their faces into the sides of their pouffes to quiet the giggling and to avoid looking each other directly in the eyes. Once or twice, during controlled silences, they caught looks from one another, and the giggling would tear out of them once more.

At one point, when Harry and Ron had been giggling into their hands, Trelawney noticed, and called out. "Mister Potter! You above all people should be listening to my lectures!"

Harry gathered himself together, thinking it highly unfair that she should target him alone when Ron was still chuckling beneath his breath with his face screwed up to conceal the laughter as best he could, but he stared back at her intently. "Tell me professor, what would you do if Voldemort himself walked up to you and said he was going to kill you?"

Trelawney flinched at the mention of the name, but she stared back at Harry defiantly. "I would tell him what I thought of his vile practices, then I would let him kill me."

Harry was surprised. He hadn't thought Trelawney would have had the courage to even open her mouth to say anything under those circumstances. He wasn't sure if he could honestly trust her when she said that was what she would do. She had obviously never experienced any real danger. "And why would you do that, rather than fighting him?"

"Fighting evil in the physical world never seems to accomplish much. The only thing I could do against You-know-who is attack his sense of dignity and appeal to his goodness. There is nothing else to be done."

Harry saw Parvati and Lavender nodding in the background, staring at professor Trelawney reverently.

"What if I told you that Voldemort has no sense of dignity, and no goodness within him?" Harry asked daringly.

Trelawney eyed Harry worriedly. "Everyone has an innate goodness. We just have to find out what it is. Nonetheless, I would have died for a good cause."

Harry let the subject drop. He could see that he was never going to get through to the woman, so he remained silent.

Parvati and Lavender sighed loudly across the room, and Harry had the horrible feeling that he had just lost two members of his DA to some sort of misplaced ideas of martyrdom.

He ended up staying late with Ron and Hermione as Trelawney had decided they needed a talking to regarding the importance of listening closely.

"If I have to see that sort of barbaric display of outright hostility again, I will be forced to give you all detentions." She said hotly, lighting up a stick of purple incense on her desk. "As it is, I must address the issue to your head of house." Trelawney plunked herself down into the chair behind her desk, and nodded to the group. "You are excused." She leaned back in her chair and began to hum. It looked like she thought she was meditating. Harry had never used this particular technique for meditation before, and he thought it made her look a bit rediculous.

Harry, Ron and Hermione all bit their lips not daring to look at each other again for fear of breaking down into helpless giggles.

As they turned away, Harry heard her voice return in a way he had never wanted to hear again. It was in a low croak very unlike her normal wistful sighing tones.

"When Light and Dark next meet, even the wisest of us all cannot sever the link they hold..."

They spun back to see that she had gone stiff in her seat, and her eyes rolled up into the back of her head so all they could see through her glasses was white, hugely magnified. She looked to be having a small seizure.

"Interference may prove costly, and light must choose the price."

Harry looked over to Ron and Hermione's shocked faces, and without commenting, quickly pushed them towards the trapdoor, noticing that Trelawney's rant seemed to be finished.

"You've seen that happen to her before, haven't you?" Ron asked Harry in a whisper once they had reached the bottom. "It was just like after your third-year exam right?"

Harry nodded. He didn't feel all that keen on discussing it.

"That was a real prophecy back then too wasn't it?" Hermione asked. "Something about Wormtail returning to reawaken his master?"

Harry nodded again.

Ron eyed him suspiciously. "Was this one about you Harry?"

This time Harry didn't answer. To be honest, there was no way of knowing who the prophecy had been about. But what with the other two prophecies Harry had heard from that woman, he couldn't very well doubt that this one had also been about him and Voldemort.

Harry didn't say a single word about the newest of Trelawney's predictions until lunch was over and the three of them were heading towards the transfiguration classroom.

As it was, Ron and Hermione had been giving him odd looks, and Harry was starting to get a little fidgety due to their concern. He knew that soon he would become uncontrollably angry if they didn't stop. Being angry again was unacceptable. He was enjoying the new grown up version of Harry a little too much.

"Trelawney has more ability as a seer than a lot of people give her credit for." He finally muttered.

"Oh, so you're going to tell us about it now?" asked Hermione, sounding slightly sarcastic.

Ron rolled his eyes. "It's not that he keeps secrets from us intentionally, Hermione!" He looked at Harry, as if to make sure he wasn't feeling offended.

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes I just need to think things through a little bit." He sighed. "There's more to Trelawney than just that pile of rubbish she spouts off in class. She really is a good seer, she just... doesn't really know about it."

"What do you mean, she doesn't know?" Hermione's eyes widened. "She tells us almost every day that she communes with the spirits and things."

"Just that. She isn't able to recall those things she told us. It's like there's something inside her that just wakes up and knows who to tell the real story to. She doesn't hear anything she says. Last time, she apologized to me afterwards for drifting off."

"Or maybe," Ron interrupted, "She just subconsciously understands which person wants to know something important, and it's her subconcsious mind telling us those things."

"Yeah, that sounds right." Harry said thoughtfully. "Anyhow, someone somewhere has told her that she has 'the gift', but I don't think she understands what that really means, so she makes up all of these guesses about the future to impress everyone. To make it seem like she knows what the heck she's doing, when in all honesty, she doesn't have a clue."

Hermione laughed. "I don't think she's fooled all that many people."

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The trio sauntered into the transfiguration classroom early, and took their seats. A few other students had arrived, but professor McGonagall was still not at her desk, so they chatted for a bit. They made a silent agreement not to mention anything about the new prophecy as it seemed to make Harry uncomfortable.

Harry thought about it however, and by the time the class was half over, he realized he hadn't heard all that much about what McGonagall had said. He looked at the notes he had compiled thus far, and realized he didn't understand a word of them.

She seemed to be talking about large scale mammalian transfigurations. Harry made a mental note to ask Hermione what she had told them after class. He began to pay more attention and take more complete notes. This sort of thing could come in handy when he figured out how to become an animagus.

He was able to nearly forget about the prophecy until they had been dismissed for their next class.

"Mister Potter, I'd like to see you for a moment." McGonagall stated, pursing her lips tightly.

The prophecy rushed back to him in its entirety at that moment. Bugger all teachers that make stay after class from now on. He thought to himself.

"We'll wait for you." Ron muttered, and he and Hermione left the room, as Harry walked with trepidation up to McGonagall's desk.

"Mister Potter, I'd like to address something important regarding the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

"Yes ma'am?" Harry's heart leapt. Was she going to say what he thought she was going to say? He could never tell what sort of things McGonagall had on her mind. Was she going to give him back his spot? Or had she called him up to punish him some more for not paying attention in class?

"Last year, you were given a ban on playing due to some unfortunate incidents involving yourself and mister Malfoy."

Harry noticed she left out the fact that it had been a lifetime ban he had received from Umbridge for punching Malfoy in the face after the Slytherin-Gryffindor match. He thought McGonagall was trying to forget everything professor Umbridge had ever done during her time at the school.

"I have been given the right to overturn this sentence if, and only if I have your word that you will not do anything so foolish again."

Harry nodded. "Of course, professor. I promise."

"Then consider yourself back on the team."

Harry smiled widely. "Thank you professor!"

"Remember that I have your word, and I take it very seriously. If I have reason to suspend you again, I will." She threatened.

When Harry nodded with understanding, she smiled again, once more confusing Harry to no end with her sudden mood change. "As you know, we are currently running without a captain again. I know it may be a little soon after your ban to be doing this, but I was wondering whether you would like the job?"

Now Harry's heart was doing a little jig. Quidditch Captain! It was something he had hoped for since he was in first year! He couldn't believe he was going to be doing that! It was nearly the highest honour, save being made head-boy.

That thought made Harry's jig-dancing heart grind to a halt.

Did he really want to be quidditch captain? He felt confident that he understood the game, and quite certain that he could do it, but did he actually want to? Did he want to be the one that took all the credit? Did he really want the attention it would attract? He already got enough attention as it was being the 'boy-who-lived' and all that. Did he really want more? Besides, he wasn't a huge insatiable fanatic about the game. He might like the sensation of flying a broomstick, but quidditch was really just an opportunity to keep at it. He wasn't like Ron, who collected quidditch memorabilia, and went absolutely insane trying to memorize statistics and moves made, and team histories and so on.

Ron was the real quidditch nut in Gryffindor tower. He might not be the most amazing keeper Gryffindor had ever seen, but he loved the game. Much more than Harry ever had, and the mirror of Erised had shown being quidditch Captain as Ron's greatest desire. How could Harry comfortably stand in the way of that?

"Have you spoken to Katie about this?" Harry asked, looking a little worried. Katie Bell was older than Harry by one year, and she might want the position too.

"I have heard from her parents, and they have decided that she needs to focus on her studies in NEWT year. They forbade her to accept the spot." McGonagall looked at Harry hopefully. "But I believe the Captainship should be yours anyhow."

"Professor..." Harry began warily. "I'm certainly pleased that you've asked me, but to be honest, I think Ron would appreciate the position much more."

McGonagall stared at Harry as if he had lost his mind. "Are you certain of this mister Potter? You've been seeker on the team since first-year! Ron's only been playing for a year now!"

Harry nodded. "But Ron is just that much more of a fanatic about the game than I am. He would pass that enthusiasm on to the rest of us without meaning to. And after that last game against Ravenclaw... you can't say he's not a good player. When he's nervous, he sometimes goes off form, but he's got the talent. If he were given the place, it would probably improve his nerves, and make him a better player."

McGonagall looked shocked. "I've never had a student turn the offer of quidditch Captain down on principle before!"

"I'm sorry." Harry said apologetically.

"Mister Potter, you are one-of-a-kind." She looked impressed at Harry's lack of pretension. "I will certainly pull mister Weasley aside and ask him if he would like the position. This is unexpected and very honourable of you..." she trailed off, staring at the wall in thought.

"If you'd like, Ron is waiting for me outside the class. You could ask him now."

McGonagall snapped out of her reverie, and nodded. "Of course, yes. Do send him in. Thank you mister Potter."

Harry wondered briefly if he was insane for doing what he had just done. He was sure that the look on Ron's face would be a thousand times more satisfactory than having the position for himself.

"Er...Professor?" Harry said, suddenly turning around.

"Yes?"

"Don't tell Ron that I refused. If he asks, just tell him that I wasn't allowed or something after my ban, and that you asked my opinion of your selection or something."

"Of course." She nodded, and Harry turned and left the room.

"Ron, McGonagall wants to see you." Harry said, smiling widely.

Ron looked a little worried. "Did she tell you what for?"

Harry shook his head. "Not telling mate, you'll have to find out for yourself."

Ron disappeared though the door.

"What's she going to tell him?" Hermione asked.

Harry thought it couldn't hurt to let Hermione know what was going on. "She's going to make him quidditch Captain."

"No way!" Hermione nearly screamed.

"Shhh! Keep your voice down!" Harry whispered.

"What's she doing, making him Captain for? He's only been playing for a year!" she whispered back.

"Yes, but he's a good player! Don't you dare say anything like that in front of him! He deserves it!" Harry was starting to get a little angry, and he abruptly reined in the burst of aggression.

Hermione looked at him curiously. "I thought it would be you." She mumbled.

"Well it isn't."

"You got him the spot, didn't you." It wasn't a question.

Harry blushed, and his boiling temper melted away. Hermione was always a little too smart for her own good. "Don't tell him, but she offered it to me first."

"Right." She seemed to understand the importance of this, and just nodded. Harry felt appeased. He tried to open the door just a crack to hear what was going on, but at that moment, Ron appeared, nearly slamming the door into Harry's face.

His face was flushed, and his eyes were sparkling with excitement.

"Oh! Sorry Harry!" he apologised quickly, having noticed the near collision.

"It's all right." Harry said. "So, what do you think?"

"It's brilliant!" Ron was near to bursting with excitement. "I can't believe she would make me captain!" he laughed. "I thought it would be you!"

Harry and Hermione eyed each other.

"Nonsense!" Hermione said. "You're the real quidditch buff here! Congratulations!" She stood on her tiptoes, and gave Ron a light kiss on the cheek.

Ron blushed even brighter.

"Thanks!" he said enthusiastically.

"Good job mate!" Harry said with a genuine smile on his face. It was enough for his ego to know that McGonagall had thought of him first. Ron was really the one who needed to know he was somebody, and Harry really didn't want any more attention.

Today he was just happy to watch Ron's excitement.