Friday the 30th of June, 1995.
Bleary-eyed, Harry fumbled in the deep pockets of his robes for a silver sickle. The coin slot happily accepted his payment as the coin tumbled down it, clinking along its sides for far too long. It had the effect of making any payee regret their decision before the wooden construction, behind its delicate glass case, even began to whir into motion. The hideous caricature of a puppet began to stretch its fragile limbs hidden under the thin layer of fabric that adorned it. The device settled on noisily rotating it's head, unoiled gears screeching all the while, to stare at the customer in front of the coin slot on the case's right hand side.
"Greetings, welcome to the gypsy of fortunes. Your coin was very much appreciated. And now I shall grant you your future."
The doll removed its deck of tarot cards from their cardboard packaging and set them down. It took about a third of the cards off the top of it, then returned the cards that were left. It began to shuffle the smaller deck, which must be the major arcana of the tarot, judging by their number, and then set down six cards from the top, one by one. They were organised into two rows of three. From what little Harry knew about tarot, each position meant something.
"It seems my cards of tarot have dealt you a very odd hand, a hand of six jokers cards. This is very rare and suggests something most hideous is approaching you. You shall be visited by a dark band of spirits, spirits that hold pain and anguish. This travelling mass of evil will leave your corpse to rot, while entrapping your soul to be displayed at future stops."
For a split second, the cards sitting on the doll's tabletop almost looked like jokers cards. Upon closer inspection, however, they were ordinary cards from the major arcana. In the first position was the Hanged Man, in the second, the Star, the third, the Wheel of Fortune, fourth, the Magician, fifth, the Fool, sixth, the Hierophant. Harry impatiently awaited an explanation, any explanation, about why the cards were different or what they meant. No such explanation was to come.
"Oh yes, you should also be aware that it is your own evil doings that have brought about this band's visit. All of the sins and hatred you have cast during your life have whipped and spun into form, the form of one, one who leads this gruesome parade of pain into your life. One sinister beast, one known only as the Mystic."
Infuriated by the shoddy mechanical puppeteer's scam, Harry noted down the cards he was dealt in order, from the perspective of the puppet. If the machine didn't want to tell him what his cards meant, even after taking his sickle, that wasn't going to stop him from finding out. He quickly stalked through the drafty corridors from below the trapdoor entrance to the divination tower, past the tacky sculptures of the planets and crystal balls, back to Gryffindor tower.
The letter Hedwig delivered him that morning put him in a sour mood. He was glad that Sirius had found a way for him to study outside of Hogwarts, but divination? Sirius had advised that Harry seek an apprenticeship with the professor he earned the best grades for, as they typically offered courses by mail to earn extra pay on the side. Being a professor of magic paid well, so the position was respected. Which seemed fortunate if he had to study divination, as it was perhaps the only job one could find with the qualifications offered.
It was unfortunate that this was his only way to avoid having to study under Snape during his N.E.W.T. years, but there was a rumour that Dumbledore was seeking a new potions professor along the line, so even if he didn't study potions he'd likely have another class with Snape. He knew for sure that if he had to deal with a N.E.W.T. workload while learning from Snape he'd fail most of his exams. The letter had another upside, he didn't have to bother with any of his O.W.L.s besides divination, which had been held early.
Harry didn't want to admit it, but sometime after earning an Outstanding in his divination O.W.L. he completely gave up on finding out when his other exams were being held. He was also sleeping in all of his classes. The letter from Sirius made him want to change that, however. It made him want to truant in them instead. Finally arriving at the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry muttered the password, "mistico", and hurried through. The novelty of the entrance hadn't worn off after years, even if most ceased to stop to enjoy it.
He felt his face almost glow with joy when he entered the common room. Finally being uninhibited by dreary classes was seemingly all it took to make the common room seem as magical as when he first saw it. It was a place he could find comforting once more. The chairs looked soft, yet firm enough to support a weary back. The fire kept the room toasty and left a healthy glow on the faces of his friends, who were lounging the afternoon away. Hermione, because she'd already prepared for her O.W.L.s, and Ron, because he didn't plan on doing so.
After a quick request, and a declined tip from Hermione, Dobby fetched three steamy mugs of hot chocolate, decorated with marshmallows, from the kitchens. Hermione enquired whether Dobby wanted to drink some with them, but the elf said something about already getting a lunch break and didn't seem very interested. Setting the tray on the ground beside his friends, it was easy to see that, while his life wasn't perfect, it was still pretty good. If the Dark Lord wasn't around, it would be bliss.