Talons and Tea Leaves

John sat down next to Hermione at breakfast and rested his head in his hands. His peaceful sleep had been ruined when he woke up with a savage headache and a painful pressure behind his eyes.

'Ooh, good, we're starting some new subjects today,' Hermione said happily as Fred and George passed them down their timetables.

'Hermione,' said Ron, 'they've messed up your timetable. Look – they've got you down for about ten subjects a day.'

'I'll manage. I've fixed it with Professor McGonagall.'

'But look, see this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination, under that, Muggle Studies, and look – underneath that, Arithmancy, nine o'clock. I mean, I know you're good, Hermione, but no one's that good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?'

'Oh, leave her alone, Ron,' John moaned. 'She'll be fine.'

Just then, Hagrid entered the Great Hall, along with Sherlock and Castiel.

'All righ'?' Hagrid said eagerly, pausing on his way to the staff table. 'Yer in my firs' ever lesson! Righ' after lunch! Bin up since five getting' everythin' ready… hope it's okay… me, a teacher… hones'ly…'

He grinned broadly and continued up to the staff table.

Sherlock sat down, briefly putting his hand on John's shoulder.

'Are you all right?' he asked.

'Yeah, I'm fine, just a headache,' said John, lifting up his head. 'What have you got first?'

'Potions,' said Sherlock. 'You?'

'Divination.'

Sherlock's arm jerked, knocking over a jug of milk. John raised his eyebrows.

'Oops.'

Fortunately, he was saved the trouble of explaining himself by Castiel.

'Perhaps you should go to the hospital wing and have Madam Pomfrey give you something for that headache,' he said.

'Nah,' said John, rubbing his eyes. 'I don't want to miss any of my new lessons today. I can deal with it.'

Harry, Ron and Hermione rose from their seats.

'Divination's all the way up the North Tower,' said John, also standing up. 'Better go. Don't want to be late.'

He smiled, patting Sherlock on the arm on his way past. Once he was gone, Sherlock breathed a deep sigh.

'What is it?' Castiel asked.

'I wasn't expecting him to have Divination so soon. When he realises what he is, it's most likely to be during that lesson.'

'I see. Are you worried?'

'I would rather be with him when he finds out. I don't see him being very happy about it. He's quite happy with not standing out too much.'

'That makes sense, but it'll happen when it happens. There's not much you can do about that except prepare yourself and what you will say,' Castiel said bracingly. 'Come, it's time for Potions.'

John was stood with Harry in an unfamiliar corridor listening to Ron and Hermione arguing about which way North Tower was.

'No, it can't be that way,' Ron was saying. 'That's south, look, you can see the lake out of that window.'

'Aha!' a voice yelled suddenly.

They all turned around and saw a squat knight in a suit of armour brandishing his sword at them from within a portrait.

'What villains are these that trespass upon my private lands? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!'

He swung his sword, but it was too long for him. He overbalanced and landed face down in the grass.

'Are you all right?' Harry said.

'Get back, you scurvy braggart! Back, you rogue!'

He seized his sword again and used it to push himself up, but the tip sank deep into the ground and he couldn't pull it out again. After a few minutes of pulling it as hard as he could, he flopped down, exhausted.

'Listen,' said Harry. 'We're trying to find the North Tower. Can you help us?'

'A quest!' the knight cried, his rage vanishing instantly. 'Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else perish in the charge! On foot, good sirs and gentle lady! On! On!'

He ran out of the frame and they hurried after him, following the clanking sound of his armour. Encouraging them all the way, he led them to the tower. They heard voices above them and knew they were in the right place.

'Farewell!' the knight cried. 'Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If ever you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!'

'Yeah, we'll call you,' Ron muttered as the knight disappeared, 'if we ever need someone mental.'

They came out on to a small landing where the rest of the class were milling about. There were no doors leading off the landing, but there was a trapdoor in the ceiling with a plaque on it that read Sybill Trelawney. Divination.

'How are we supposed to get up there?' Harry said.

He didn't have to wait long for an answer. The trapdoor opened and a silvery ladder descended. They climbed up it and found themselves in the strangest classroom, crammed with circular tables, squashy pouffes and armchairs. It looked more like a tea shop than a classroom. The red curtains were all drawn shut, giving everything a crimson tinge. It was stiflingly warm, and the fire that was lit in the grate was giving off a heavy, sickly perfume. Much to John's surprise, the more of it he breathed in, the more it eased his headache. Shelves ran around the walls and they were covered in candles, playing cards, crystal balls and countless tea cups. John was about to sit down when a very skinny woman, dressed in a floaty dress, a spangled shawl and draped in chains and beads appeared in front of him, peering at him through very large glasses. Even her arms and hands were encrusted with jewels and John squirmed as her hugely magnified eyes stared at him for an embarrassingly long amount of time. Someone coughed and she finally turned her attention to the rest of the class.

'Welcome,' she said. 'How nice it is to see you all in the physical world at last. Sit, my children, sit.'

They all sat awkwardly in the deep chairs while Professor Trelawney lowered herself into a large, winged armchair by the fire.

'Welcome to Divination,' she said to them. 'My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye. So, you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can only take you so far in this field…'

John sniggered at the surprised look on Hermione's face.

'Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future. It is a Gift granted to only a few.'

Her gaze once again rested on John.

'You, boy,' she said suddenly to Neville, 'is your grandmother well?'

'I think so,' said Neville tremulously.

'I wouldn't be so sure, dear,' she said. 'We will be covering the basics of Divination. The first term will be devoted to reading tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to Palmistry. In the summer term we shall move on to the crystal ball – that is if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I, myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever.'

John bit his lip trying to hide his amusement. Everyone was now listening to her avidly and she had Lavender Brown bring her an enormous silver teapot.

'Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, or right if you are left-handed, then turn the cup upside down on your saucer. Wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instruction. Oh, and dear-' she caught Neville by the arm, 'after you've broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue-patterned ones? I'm rather attached to the pink.'

Sure enough, Neville reached up to the shelf of teacups and there was a tinkling of breaking china. Professor Trelawney swept over to him, holding a dustpan and brush, and said, 'One of the blue ones, then dear, if you wouldn't mind…'

John and Hermione paired off and sat facing each other near Harry and Ron. They drank the tea quickly and swilled the dregs as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped them. They opened their books and John went first, reading Hermione's leaves.

'Okay, so that wobbly line there means challenges, and you've got a spiral here and some dashes. So you're going to have some challenges and you'll be busy, but you'll have a lot of energy, and time for problem solving. That's not bad, Hermione,' John smiled. 'Knowing you, you'll probably get past these challenges, no problem.'

Hermione just smiled, though looked slightly surprised.

'Okay, do mine now,' he encouraged.

Hermione inspected the leaves and the book, but before she could say anything, there was a sudden scream. They turned and saw Professor Trelawney sinking into an empty chair nearest Harry, eyes closed and clutching her chest.

'What is it, Professor?' asked Dean Thomas.

Professor Trelwaney shook her head.

'No, no, no – perhaps it would be kinder not to say…'

Everyone was looking nervously between her and Harry. It seemed that she'd seen something terrible in Harry's cup, so John picked it up to have a look himself. He saw a falcon, a club, a skull, and-

'My dear,' said Professor Trelawney, eyes opening dramatically, 'you have the Grim.'

A few people in the class gasped.

'The what?' said Harry.

'The Grim, my dear, the Grim!' she cried, looking shocked that Harry hadn't understood. 'The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear, it is and omen – the worst omen – of death!'

John frowned.

'It doesn't look like the Grim to me,' he said.

'Excuse me?' said Professor Trelawney.

'Yeah, look. It's definitely a dog, but not like, an evil dog. He actually looks sort of friendly to me.'

Professor Trelawney approached him with a queer look on her face.

'May I see your wand?' she asked.

'What?'

'Your wand, dear.'

'Er, all right.'

He pulled it out and handed it to her. Harry had never paid much attention to John's wand before, but now it was in front of him, he saw that it was a smooth, creamy colour with a slight, silvery sheen.

'Oooh, I like your wand, John,' said Lavendar.

John turned red around the bridge of his nose.

'What is it made of?' asked Professor Trelawney.

'Er, Silver Lime, I think he said.'

'I see, and the core?'

'Unicorn hair.'

'Yes. Yes, well,' she handed John his wand back, 'you see, I am much more experienced in these matters, and have seen many omens in my time. I'm sorry to say that this is definitely the Grim.'

'If you say so,' John shrugged.

'I think we will leave the lesson here for today,' Professor Trelawney said in her mistiest voice. 'Yes… please pack away your things…'

The class took their teacups up to Professor Trelawney's desk, packed their bags, descended the ladder and made their way to Transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall was trying to teach them about Animagi, though most of them weren't even watching when she transformed herself into a tabby cat in front of them.

'Really, what has gotten into you all today?' she said, turning back into herself. 'Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got an applause from a class.'

Everyone's heads turned towards Harry, and Hermione raised her hand.

'Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination lesson, and we were reading tea leaves –'

'Ah, of course,' said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning. 'There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?'

Everyone stared at her.

'Me,' Harry said, finally.

'I see,' said Professor McGonagall. 'Then you should know, Potter, that Sybill Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she started at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favourite way of greeting a new class. Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic and I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, indeed,' her eyes flickered over to John for a fraction of a second, 'and Professor Trelawney…

'You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you, if you die, you need not hand it in.'

Hermione laughed, but a lot of the rest of the class did not look convinced.

Transfiguration ended and they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch where Castiel and Sherlock were waiting.

'How was Divination?' Sherlock asked John as he sat down.

'Not bad. Professor Trelawney's a bit weird, though. She wanted to see my wand.

'Really? Why?'

'No idea.'

'May I see it?'

John made a face at him, but handed the wand to him.

'Why is everyone being so weird today?' he muttered.

Sherlock examined it closely.

'Silver Lime?' he said.

'Yeah. I don't understand, what's so great about it?'

Sherlock shrugged and gave it back to him.

'Wandlore isn't really my area,' he said.

John reached for some stew and Ron and Hermione were still arguing over whether or not Harry did have the Grim. John quickly told Sherlock and Castiel about Professor Trelawney's predictions.

'Hermione, if Harry's seen the Grim, that's bad,' Ron was saying. 'My Uncle Billius saw one and he died twenty-four hours later!'

'Coincidence,' Hermione said airily.

'You don't know what you're talking about!' said Ron, starting to get angry. 'Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!'

'I really don't think it is the Grim, Ron,' John interrupted. 'I mean, I would have expected a death omen to be, well, more ominous.'

'Well, what do you think it was?' said Ron, affronted.

'It was definitely a dog. Maybe you're going to get a dog, Harry.'

Sherlock snorted.

'I think Divination seems very woolly,' Hermione said, propping her Arithmancy book open against a juice jug. 'A lot of guesswork if you ask me.'

'There was nothing woolly about the Grim in that cup!' Ron said hotly.

'You didn't seem quite so confident when you were telling Harry it was a sheep,' Hermione said coolly, sending John and Sherlock into a fit of silent laughter.

'You just don't like being rubbish at something for a change!'

This touched a nerve and Hermione slammed her book down on the table.

'If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared to my Arithmancy class!'

She snatched up her bag.

'Sherlock, can I speak to you outside, please?' she said, stalking away.

'Looks like someone's in trouble,' John sniggered, but Sherlock had a serious look on his face and followed Hermione outside.

'What is it?' he asked her.

'I thought you ought to know that John might figure out what's going on soon,' she told him.

'What makes you say that?'

'He read my tea leaves without consulting his book once. He didn't notice since he was distracted by Harry's tea leaves, but more importantly, his reading was correct as far as I can tell.'

'I thought you didn't believe in Divination,' Sherlock said.

'John's different. He's the real thing.'

Sherlock sighed.

'You know what's so important about his wand, don't you?' said Hermione.

'Silver Lime wands are particularly drawn to Seers. Now that Professor Trelawney's drawn attention to it, everyone will know soon enough,' Sherlock said grimly.

Hermione grimaced.

'I suggest you start figuring out what you want to say to him. He won't be happy that you kept it from him, no matter what the centaurs said.'

'Thank you, Hermione.'

Lunch time finished and Sherlock and Castiel went off to Herbology, while the Gryffindors went down to Hagrid's hut for Care of Magical Creatures.

They encountered the Slytherins and groaned as they realised that they would have these lessons with them. Malfoy was there, complaining loudly about how the school was going downhill.

'C'mon now, get a move on,' Hagrid called to them. 'Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Righ' follow me!'

Hagrid led them around the edge of the Forest, John feeling an odd sensation of eyes on him, and they found themselves outside a paddock.

'Everyone gather round the fence here!' Hagrid called. 'That's it – make sure you can see. Now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books-'

'How?' Malfoy said coldly.

'Eh?' said Hagrid.

'How do we open our books?' Malfoy repeated. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Most of the Slytherins pulled out their books as well, all similarly bound.

'Hasn' – hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?' said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.

'We have, Hagrid,' said John.

They Gryffindors, armed with the knowledge that Castiel had given them, all pulled out their perfectly placid copies.

'What's the matter, Malfoy? Couldn't figure it out?' John said sweetly.

Hagrid grinned broadly.

'Righ' then,' he said happily. 'Yeh've got yer books an' now yeh need the Magical Creatures. I'll go an' get 'em. You lot wait here.'

He strode off into the Forest.

'God, this place has gone to the dogs,' Malfoy scoffed. 'That oaf teaching classes. My father will not be happy when he hears about this.'

'Oh yeah, and what's he going to do about it?' John butted in. 'He got sacked as a school governor, remember?'

'My father knows the Minister. He's got connections.'

'Oooh, he has 'connections', now I'm scared,' John said sarcastically.

Hermione wacked him on the arm.

'Ow!'

'Don't provoke him!' she said. 'He's not worth it.'

'How dare you!' Malfoy said furiously.

Before he could do anything, Lavender Brown squealed and pointed across the paddock. Hagrid came around the corner leading a dozen very strange creatures. They had the bodies, hind legs and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings and heads of what looked like giant eagles.

'Hippogriffs!' Hagrid said to them. 'Beau'iful, aren't they?'

John thought that they were very handsome, indeed.

'So,' said Hagrid, 'if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer…'

No one seemed to want to, except Harry, Ron, Hermione and John.

'Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is they're proud,' said Hagrid. 'Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don' never insult one, 'cause it migh' be the last thing yeh do.'

Malfoy wasn't listening, instead talking quietly to Crabbe and Goyle.

'Oi, Malfoy, pay attention,' John snapped suddenly. 'Hagrid's telling us how not to die. I thought that you, of all people, valued your life.'

Malfoy turned pink.

'Don't ever speak to me like that, Mudblood,' Malfoy snarled, forgetting that Hagrid was there and was now a teacher.

'Detention, Malfoy,' Hagrid growled. 'We don't use language like that in my class.'

Malfoy looked absolutely livid and John grinned at Hagrid, encouraging him further.

'What did I jus' say?' Hagrid said.

'I don't know,' Malfoy mumbled.

'Righ' then, I'll repeat myself, shall I?'

Malfoy, humiliated, paid attention to Hagrid this time.

'Yeh always wait for the Hippogriff ter make the firs' move,' Hagrid continued. 'It's polite, see? Yeh walk towards him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed to touch him. If he doesn' bow, then yeh back away.

'So, who wants ter go first?'

The class backed even further away in response.

'No one?' Hagrid said, pleading.

John went to step forward, but Harry beat him to it.

'I'll do it,' he said, climbing over the fence.

'Good man, Harry! Righ' then, let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak.'

He untied a grey Hippogriff and pulled him away from the others.

'Easy, now, Harry,' Hagrid said quietly. 'Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink. Hippogriffs don't trust yeh if yeh blink too much… That's it, Harry…now, bow…'

Harry did as he was told, and after a minute, Buckbeak bent his scaly front knees, sinking into a bow.

'Well done, Harry!' said Hagrid, ecstatic. 'Righ', yeh can touch him now! Pat him on the beak, go on!'

Harry approached Buckbeak carefully, holding a hand out. He patted him on the beak, which he seemed to greatly enjoy. John grinned widely, clapping with the rest of the class.

'Righ', then, Harry, I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him! Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint, an' mind yeh don' pull out any of his feathers, he won' like that…'

John gazed up at Buckbeak as he flapped gracefully upwards and soared around the paddock. He made one lap of the paddock and brought Harry back down.

'Good work, Harry!' Hagrid roared. 'Okay, who else wants a go?'

John felt fairly confident, so hopped into the paddock himself. He, Ron and Hermione were given a chestnut Hippogriff to work with, while Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle worked with Buckbeak nearby. John went first and the Hippogriff bowed for him. He went up to it and patted it on the beak, just as Harry had with Buckbeak.

'I'm not going to ride you today,' he said gently to it. 'I don't think it would be much fun for either of us.'

He got the distinct impression that it had understood him and he backed away to let Hermione have a turn. He was standing there, watching her, when he felt an odd tingling in his stomach, which quickly spread down his arms and to the tips of his fingers. Suddenly, his body was propelling him sideways and his hand, quite on its own, grabbed Malfoy's arm and pulled. Before he could register what was happening, Malfoy was screaming on the ground and Hagrid was trying to wrestle Buckbeak back into his collar. John dropped to the ground beside Malfoy a saw a huge gash down the arm that he hadn't pulled. It was bleeding heavily, so John ripped off his cloak and pressed it against the wound. Malfoy would not stop moving around, however, and repeatedly tried to shove John away while screaming, 'I'm dying! I'm dying!' After a few moments of this, John grew frustrated and slapped Malfoy across the face.

'Get a hold of yourself!' John shouted. 'I'm trying to help you, so keep still!'

Malfoy stopped squirming, allowing John to concentrate. He had seen Castiel use a spell to conjure bandages before, and hoped he could replicate it. He pulled the cloak away from the wound, which immediately began to pour blood. He pointed his wand and said, 'Ferula'. It worked, wrapping Malfoy's arm tightly in bandages. Once he had done this, Hagrid lifted Malfoy off the ground and took him up to the castle, Hermione opening the paddock gate for him, and dismissing the class on the way. John stood up and dusted off his hands. He was suddenly very dizzy and the paddock span around him. The next thing he knew, he was being held up by Harry and Ron. Hermione's concerned face appeared before him as he regained his balance.

'What happened?' he asked, rubbing his face.

'Dunno,' said Ron. 'You just passed out.'

'No, I meant with Malfoy. Why did Buckbeak attack him?'

'Malfoy called him an ugly brute,' Harry frowned. 'I heard him.'

'After all that fuss, he still didn't listen,' John said, picking up his blood-soaked cloak.

'He owes you a thank you, at least,' Hermione said to John. 'If you hadn't pulled him out of the way, he'd have a lot worse than a cut on his arm.'

John snorted.

'I've got about as much chance of that as Snape learning to do ballet.'

Later on that night, the four of them were joined by Sherlock and Castiel to discuss the incident together in the Gryffindor common room.

'They wouldn't sack him, would they?' Hermione said nervously.

'They'd better not,' Ron said darkly. 'It was Malfoy's own fault. Hagrid said not to insult them twice.'

'Lucius Malfoy does have a lot of influence,' said Sherlock.

'Surely not since he was sacked?' said John.

'True, he's not a governor anymore, but he can push for an inquiry at the Ministry if he wants to.'

Ron slammed his book shut, giving up on his Transfiguration homework.

'Trust Malfoy to ruin it for Hagrid.' he said angrily.

'Hey, there's a light on in his house,' said Harry suddenly.

Ron checked his watch.

'If we hurried, we could go visit him. It's still quite early.'

'I don't know,' Hermione said slowly, glancing at Harry.

'I'm allowed to walk across the grounds. Sirius Black hasn't got past the Dementors here, has he? Are you coming?' he asked John, Sherlock and Castiel.

All three shook their heads

'Gabriel and I are visiting him for lunch on Saturday,' said Castiel. 'We'll talk to him then.'

'I have to send a letter to Mycroft,' Sherlock said, getting up.

'Take Grace.'

'Thank you.'

Sherlock left with Harry, Ron and Hermione, and John settled himself down comfortably on the sofa by the fire. Castiel opened his copy of Spellman's Syllabary, curling up in an armchair, and John felt himself drifting off…

He dreamed that he was walking around in total darkness, not even able to see his hand in front of his face. Everything was silent until a chorus of howling and barking erupted around him. He dropped to his knees, covering his ears desperately. Then came the rats. Hundreds and hundreds of them, scurrying, squeaking and nibbling. After what felt like hours, silence fell again and the rats disappeared, only to be replaced by the terrible, rattling, sucking breaths of a Dementor. There was a bright silvery light and a pressure on his chest, and he woke with a start. His arms flailed wildly and he caught Castiel, who had been trying to wake him, on the jaw.

'Oh my God, I'm so sorry!' he said. 'Are you okay?'

'Yes, I'm fine. It wasn't hard.'

'I'm so sorry,' John repeated.

'It's all right. You were having a nightmare. It happens.'

Sherlock returned after a while and the three of them decided to go to bed. There was nothing more they could do until they heard from Mycroft.

Welcome back everyone :) Thanks to xXMoonylightXx and Keysmash5955. I hope everyone had a good first couple of weeks back at school, if you're of that age, of course. I would just like to let you know that I have a new email address which I would like to share with you. If you have any questions, email me at nurmengardx16 gmail. com and I'll see you all next time! It's a bit of a short chapter, but I definitely think you'll enjoy it.