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Chapter Two - The Problem With Divination
26th November 1993 - Divination Classroom, North Tower - Third Year Divination Class
Hermione unfolded herself from under the table and flicked an errant strand of hair from her face, wondering whether anyone had noticed her sudden appearance or slightly flushed complexion, and it was a welcome sight to see that Professor Trelawney had apparently talked everyone into such a state of weariness that they probably wouldn't notice even if a Hippogriff flew through the window. Ron was already asleep.
It was only then that she quickly took in the equipment at their table, the page that Harry's textbook was opened to, and concluded that this must be another tea leaf reading lesson, the one about 'combined destinies' (she'd done the reading a few weeks ago). Even as she formed that thought she was rolling her eyes at the ridiculousness of the idea, and she found her face contorting at the sound of her fanatical professor explaining it.
"Combined destinies are about the journey's we take together," the professor beamed and clutched her hands together expressively. "We will brew the leaves of the Alnus fortunae plant to predict the nature and strength of a relationship that two people are destined to have together…"
Harry casually threw a glance back and then double took on her with a questioning look.
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Harry?" She tried to be nonchalant.
His brows furrowed further and his eyes seemed to scan over her face, which she hoped was no longer as flushed from crouching under the table. "Oh – nothing. I just though you weren't – Nevermind," he said, shaking his head and turning back to watch Trelawney.
Hermione took a deep breath, feeling like she'd gotten away with it but only just. One day she would tell Harry and Ron about the time turner. She hated lying because she'd never been very good at it and it felt even worse doing it to Harry and Ron; they always look so riddled with self-doubt every time she popped out of nowhere. It wasn't fair to them, she knew, but she had promised Professor McGonagall that she wouldn't tell a soul and so she'd have to keep the secret at least until the end of third year, when Divination stopped being a required subject that stole her away from more worthwhile pursuits.
Trelawney's voice pulled her back to the present. "…You and your partner will share a cup of the fortunae tea while you look for the hallmarks: the intensity of the brew, the shapes within and their respective positioning on the cup. If we work quickly we will have time for three readings so pair off. Pair off!"
The room was suddenly alight and Hermione turned to Ron to see him being nudged back to consciousness by Harry.
She knew it would happen, because it always happened. Whenever they are asked to work in pairs it always seems to be that Harry and Ron are together and she's left begging around for a partner. She doesn't know what it is, maybe it grew from some childish habit since they were friends first, maybe it's a subconscious notion of boys sticking together, or she hopes (really hopes) it's not something to do with her making them feel inferior just because she bothers to do the required reading and they don't.
"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said apologetically when he saw her rolling her eyes at them, "I said I'd go with Ron first. You weren't here before…"
"I was!" She insisted, but it came out whiny and hollow (even she had to admit) because it was ultimately a lie.
"Now my dears," Professor Trelawney seemed to suddenly appear behind Hermione, "There is plenty of time for further readings with each other so you can find another partner for n – "
A loud shuffle of a chair suddenly cut her off, and Hermione saw a white-blond head peak up over her shoulder. A petulant voice was scolding Crabbe and Goyle for pairing off and, in turn, they were looking gormlessly back at him before he spun and tried to march away.
Malfoy only stopped when the Professor laid a hand on his shoulder as he tried to walk past and he looked at her with a face that told everyone how unwise a move it was to lay a hand on a Malfoy.
"Well, it seems fate is with us," Trelawney said sweetly, and didn't seem to care how impertinent Malfoy's sneer was. "If you are in need of a partner then you can go with Miss..." She tailed off with a slight cringe and gestured weakly in Hermione's direction.
"Granger," Hermione supplied, though it is pointless, the professor couldn't remember names for the life of her. "But professor, I don't think Malfoy and I should do this exercise together…"
"Oh?" She frowned, "But why ever not?"
"Because we despise each other." Malfoy drawled, mouth curling up in disgust, as if he had just taken a swig of Polyjuice potion.
It was the first time Hermione had truly looked at him, more out of shock from the civility of his statement. Well, maybe it wasn't civil – he still said he despised her – but she was half expecting him to mention 'mudblood' in there somewhere. Yet he hadn't.
She realised, in fact, it was probably the first time she had really looked at him in a whole year. There were suddenly things that she hadn't seen before, like the new 'just out of bed' hair style that had replaced the slicked comb-back he had last year, or that he was now a good few inches taller than she remembered, his face more chiselled after shedding his puppy fat. But those grey eyes, they've never changed.
Professor Trelawney hadn't replied to them yet, instead she seemed intent on studying them, drawing uncomfortably close and gazing into their eyes.
It was a rather unnerving moment while they awaited her next move, like some wild animal that they did not wish to spook.
"Are you quite sure?" She finally asked them with an expectant blink.
Both she and Malfoy raised their eyebrows back at their professor. Were they quite sure they despised each other? Most definitely. It was not a feeling easily confused.
"Yes, Professor," Hermione spoke slowly, maybe it would help get this through to her. "I highly doubt Malfoy and I will have much to do with each other in the future." Except, perhaps, if they were at war with each other, but she wouldn't mention that.
"But your auras!" She waved her hand around them both, Malfoy flinching away from her and flashing Hermione an uncertain look. If there was a shred of commonality between them, it seemed to be their opinion of Trelawney and her subject. "Yes," the Professor continued dreamily, "I think there will be something in the leaves for you two to make this a worthwhile exercise. If I'm wrong then you'll just have to wait until the next reading. Please take your seats."
It was said kindly but there was no mistake, it was a dismissal, and neither Malfoy nor Hermione felt able to argue with it.
They awkwardly settled into chairs at the last empty table, Hermione trying not to look at him, as has been her way for the last year or so. She had noticed, at some point, that the majority of Malfoy's caustic remarks are aimed, not at her, but at Harry and Ron. She didn't like it when they got attacked either but they could defend themselves and it was only when she felt Malfoy had gone beyond the 'normal level of prat' with them that she ever spoke up. And it was then that he would get truly nasty to her.
That hadn't happened for a while now, and she was rather glad.
Trelawney's overexcited voice rang sharply across the room. "First, my dears, you must each take hold of the cup with one hand as you pour the boiling water inside. Feel the energy flow between you!" She almost bubbled with enthusiasm.
Again, without looking at him, Hermione tentatively placed the small cup between them and waited for him to grab on. It was a small Chinese tea cup, making it hard not to touch each other but she appreciated that he was just as reluctant to do that.
She poured the boiling water in with her other hand, hearing Professor Trelawney mutter her approval. "That's it…" she nodded at them, "The liquid will darken and you must both keep hold of your cups until the colour stops transforming. The intensity of the final colour represents the strength of connection you will have to each other. A short acquaintance will yield a light brew whereas a close and enduring relationship will be darker…" She spoke to the class but momentarily stopped to compliment the Patil sisters sitting a few tables down with a cup of completely black liquid.
Her eyes went over to the cup between Ron and Harry – a warm amber brown, the colour of aged fire whiskey. It wasn't quite as dark as the Patil sisters – they were twin sisters after all, practically inseparable since birth and there was no reason to think that may change – but Harry and Ron's was still indicative of a close bond that would last.
If the leaves were to be trusted, of course.
"Granger, I think we've got some dud leaves," she faintly heard Malfoy inform her as she was still scanning the other tables.
"Wh - ?" She whipped her head back to look at her own cup, scowling instantly.
It was pitch black. A glistening onyx liquid swirling in the cup.
"How did that happen?" She muttered (more to herself than anyone else).
Malfoy shrugged with indifference. "I'm telling you, it's the leaves. Or," he added with a smirk, "Maybe you did something wrong when you poured the water."
She threw him a deadly look but realised, oddly, that there was no menace to his words, just faint… amusement. "I didn't do anything wrong. It was only pouring water," she replied lamely.
"Well then we get new leaves. Maybe this is English Breakfast rather than fortunae." His hand slowly reached up in the air to get Professor Trelawney's attention.
She drifted swiftly over, her long patterned skirt bellowing between the tables.
"Yes, my child – Oh! Splendid!" She smiled down at their cup, its contents the colour of tar.
"Er, no, Professor. It seems Granger did something wrong so I think we'll be needing some new leaves," he smirked again and this time she caught how he seemed to look specifically in her direction, expecting a reaction. Unfortunately she gave one – a pursed set of lips – because she hated her schoolwork being anything but perfect. Even if it was just Divination.
Trelawney deflated. "Oh. Well, please take note that just because a result is unexpected it may not necessarily be wrong. Repeating our readings when we dislike results achieves nothing, it is simply a denial of fate." Hermione chanced a look at Draco, shocked when she found herself staring straight into his silvered eyes, skeptical and bored as they listened to Trelawney. "But… you may take another cup from the table at the front. If you must," she said pointedly before walking to another corner of the class.
A few moments later, they had a new cup of dried leaves and a freshly boiled pot of water (just to be safe). Malfoy had insisted he poured the water this time to 'avoid it being done wrong.'
For a fraction of a second she was relieved to see it turn the same pitch black shade as the first pour – it meant she wasn't at fault earlier, or that Malfoy was just as bad. Then she realised what it actually meant and remembered to frown at the stupid thing.
Apparently they would have some connection to each other. And, if what Professor Trelawney and the books had said was correct, it would be a very deep connection, possibly for a long time. Perish the thought.
She glanced up at Malfoy looking at the cup with an expression that was probably a mirror of her own: troubled disgust.
Maybe it wasn't a positive connection like friends (she wouldn't even contemplate anything more). Maybe it meant they would be devoted in their hatred of each other? Mortal enemies.
And that was another reason why she hated Divination. It was so bloody vague.
"Now what? I don't think we should get even more leaves, I don't care to be lectured by her again…" Malfoy droned.
"Well then we just carry on and get it over with." Hermione sighed a little. For once she had stopped caring about the quality of her work. "The next step is to take alternate sips until we drain the teacup and look for signs like we did for our individual readings. Except they may mean different things if we're considering the both of us together."
Hermione took a sip and passed the cup over to Malfoy, wincing at the shock of the flavour. It was rancid, bitter and sweet all at once, and she looked around to see others coughing and spluttering at the taste of theirs too. Malfoy smelled the concoction, made sure he placed his mouth far from where she had and took a swig, hissing at the tang.
When Hermione finished draining the cup, he recited the passage of their textbook.
"Take note of signs and symbols that appear beginning from the rim. The symbols closest to the rim represent events that will occur sooner in time than those at the centre of the cup."
Hermione frowned down, crooked her head in different positions before saying, "I see… a stick."
"A stick?" He asked flatly. He shook his head disapprovingly, almost cracking… a smile? And then took the cup from her. "I'll interpret, you read up what they mean."
She waved her hands at him in frustration. She was never very good at embellishing things that clearly weren't there. It had always alluded her as a child, when other kids said the clouds looked like sheep or rabbits. The clouds looked like clouds, just as these leaves looked like wet leaves.
"It's a sword, Granger," he said distractedly. "Pointing to the side."
Hermione flipped furiously through the book. "That means 'arguments or fights,'" she scoffed to herself. Looks like it would be devoted enemies then. But then she read on, "If it points to the side then it means that there will be some… resolution at the end."
He snorted with derision muttering something under his breath like 'yeah, right' and bowed his head back into the cup. "The next thing is an anchor."
"Which direction is it pointing?"
"Up," He replied.
Hermione turned a page, reading with surprise. It must have shown in her expression because Malfoy was soon asking what the matter was.
"Um," she cleared her throat, "It's a sign of friendship, realisation of your wishes and – um – constancy of love."
They both gawped a little gracelessly, Hermione at the pages and Malfoy training his eyes on the paisley pattern of the tablecloth. Anything to avoid looking at each other.
"Are you sure it was up?" She suddenly asked.
"Yes." She flinched at the sudden bitterness in his tone. It shouldn't have surprised her since that was normal coming from him, but he'd been fairly courteous for the last fifteen minutes she'd almost forgotten what a prick he was. If just for a moment.
He put the cup on the table for her and saw that the anchor was, indeed, pointing up. And there was a star. Two stars, actually.
Malfoy didn't question as she shuffled through the book, trailed her finger down a page and squeezed her eyes shut.
No way.
"What?" He asked fearfully. "Granger, wh - ?"
A thunderous gong rang.
"Alright children, please switch!" Trelawney sang.
Hermione simply slapped her book shut and fitted it in the crook of her elbow while she looked for Ron and Harry.
She heard Malfoy ask from behind her. "What is it, Granger? What do those stars mean?"
She turned back and put on (Merlin knows why) a weak smile for him. "It's nothing Malfoy." Then she looked back, failing to see where Ron had disappeared to but found Harry waving her over and almost ran in his direction.
No way. No way could she see her and Draco Malfoy – king of the blood purists – laying their animosity aside. No way would she become his friend or have any sort of tender love with him.
No way would they share a family together. It was ludicrous.
Harry noticed the scowl across her face as she marched up to the table and plonked herself on chair the next to him.
He winced. "Is everything alright, Hermione? I'm sorry… we really didn't think you'd end up with Malfoy, we thought maybe Dean or... Hope he wasn't too nasty?"
She had barely been listening in her attempt to get herself set up again and avoid staring over at Malfoy who was still bent over the cup and flicking pages of his textbook.
"What? No, he was – um – he was okay… I suppose."
Harry's face melted into a grin and he nodded gently. "Ron and I got a ring," he said lightly, "It's a symbol of family, so I can only assume Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are going to adopt me at some point."
"Or you'll get married to Ron," she smiled.
He laughed and then trailed off awkwardly. "So, what about you? What did the tea say would happen with you two?"
She distractedly looked at Malfoy, frozen with his finger on a line in his book and jaw dropped at their cup. His eyes flicked to hers, catching her with a glare that wasn't all together menacing. Nor was it particularly friendly, for that matter.
She ripped her eyes from him and focused on the warmer green of her friend, smiling fakely to answer his question. "Oh nothing much, Harry." She shook her head and laughed lightly, "This whole subject is complete – "
"This is rubbish!" She heard Malfoy announce to someone, probably Crabbe or Goyle. She didn't look back but she imagined him waving the cup around like a child.
"It's complete nonsense," she finished, and all Harry could do was look at her quizzically as she readied their cups.
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A/N: So, I took some artistic licence (if you can really call it that) with regards to the tea and some of the tea symbols but hopefully nobody minded ;) Next chapter will be up in a few days.
Please don't forget to review to let me know what you think so far!
