Chapter Eight: In Which Classes Are Dropped
"I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class, my dear, it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student who was so hopelessly mundane."
There was a moment's silence. Then —
"Fine!" said Hermione suddenly, getting up and cramming Unfogging the Future back into her bag. "Fine!" she repeated, swinging the bag onto her shoulder and almost knocking Ron off his chair. "I give up! I'm leaving!"
Hermione strode over to the trapdoor, kicked it open, and climbed down the ladder out of sight.
Ron and Harry looked at each other. They had never liked Divination much anyway. They had a silent conversation, debating pros and cons.
"Ooooo!" said Lavender suddenly, making everyone start. "Ooooo, Professor Trelawney, I've just remembered! You saw her leaving, didn't you? Didn't you, Professor? 'Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever!' You said it ages ago, Professor!"
Of course, Harry and Ron chose this time to act.
"Did you? Bet you didn't predict this, Trelawney!"
They both swung their bags around their shoulders, and descended down the ladder just like Hermione.
Harry had one last thing to say to her. "You don't have any right to call Hermione mundane, because she is a thousand times the witch you will ever be!" he said loudly, making a rude hand gesture.
The trapdoor slammed shut.
AN: Harry and Ron hated Divination, Harry especially so because Trelawney kept talking about his impending death. They should have taken the chance while they had it! Plus, they shred Trelawney's prediction to pieces. . . .
Dramatic exit, much? :D