I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.
Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban. Reference to The Power of One (Pokémon the Movie 2000).
Chapter Ten: Grim Predictions
"You're in Divination as well?"
Moon looked up from the schedule that had been given to her to Hermione's curious brown eyes. "Yes. I find the subject fascinating."
Ron, who had been reading Hermione's packed schedule, peered at hers. "You're classes don't make sense either. What's with all the colours?"
The schedule in question was marked with boxes of black, green, red, and blue ink surrounding the classes. Some had two different colours marked for the same class.
"I'm not in any house," Moon explained, "and so rather than following a regular schedule like yours, I'm taking my classes with all of the other houses."
She read over the timetable. "You guys are stuck with me all day tomorrow, by the way."
"Thanks for the warning," Ron said before turning to Hermione. "How exactly are you supposed to be in three classes at once?"
"Honestly, Ron…"
Moon tuned out the rest of the conversation. She didn't exactly know how Hermione would manage taking three classes at once, but in a magical world, almost anything was possible. Time travel was a feasible concept with pokémon. Why couldn't the same power be utilized in a controlled environment?
She finished her breakfast quickly and headed for the Divination classroom. The path to the North Tower wasn't complicated, but without proper directions it would be easy to get lost. Moon was glad that she had had so much time to memorize the layout of the castle, although she did wish she had a map or something.
She stood on the landing underneath the trap door and waited. The Gryffindors that decided to take Divination slowly gathered around her, but it was obvious that they had no idea how to enter the classroom. Two girls tore their eyes away from the brass plaque inscribed with Trelawney's name and stared at her.
"You're the new girl," the one wearing a butterfly clip stated.
"Well, yes, I suppose," Moon responded flatly. The girl wearing a red bow in her hair held out her hand.
"I'm Lavender Brown," she said, "and this is my friend, Parvati Patil."
"Nice to meet you," Moon said honestly, "and I'm Moon Blakesley, by the way."
Parvati looked up at the plaque again. "How are we supposed to get in?"
"It's a trap door," Moon explained. "There's a ladder to get in."
"You've been up there, already?" Lavender asked, slightly awed.
"I met with all of the professors to prove that I can do the work required for third year," she bluffed.
"What's it like?" Parvati questioned. "I heard it's one of the most beautiful rooms in the school."
"It is certainly colourful, I'll give it that," Moon chuckled. She spotted Harry and Ron climbing the last few steps, horribly out of breath. She gave them a small smile.
"Took you long enough."
"Got lost," Ron wheezed. The redhead nudged his friend and pointed at the trap door.
"Sybill Trelawney, Divination teacher," Harry said. "How're we supposed to get up there?"
Moon was about to tell them when the trap door opened at last. The silvery ladder fell right at Harry's feet. The whispering ceased.
"After you," Ron said with a grin. Harry ascended first, then Ron, Parvati, Lavender, Hermione, and a blond boy Moon didn't recognize. Moon waited behind and went up the ladder last, pulling the door shut behind her.
The Divination classroom, unlike many of the serious and uncomfortable classrooms the other teachers used, was more like a teashop than a school room. The hot, heavily scented air always made Moon sleepy, but she stayed awake.
"Welcome," an ethereal voice wavered out from the shadows. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."
Professor Trelawney was Eccentric with a capital E, and Moon thought it was fantastic. Everything from her oversized glasses down to the dozens of shawls she wore reminded Moon of the many fortune tellers and psychics of the Kanto and Johto regions.
Trelawney invited them to sit around the tables. Moon sank onto a scarlet pouffe near the blond boy who introduced himself as Neville Longbottom, a bright-eyed boy named Dean Thomas, and a boy with a noticeably different accent named Seamus Finnigan.
Professor Trelawney introduced herself as she sat down in the winged armchair near the fireplace, and she claimed that she rarely left the tower to preserve her psychic abilities. Moon thought it had more to do with not wanting to encounter her colleagues, but said nothing.
Trelawney fussed with her shawl. "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..."
Moon looked over at Hermione, who was looking scandalized at the idea that books had little importance.
"Many witches and wizards," Trelawney continued in her misty voice, "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 few. You, boy," she said to the blond boy beside Moon, who almost fell off his pouffe in surprise, "is your grandmother well?"
"I think so," Neville said, his voice shaking.
"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear," Trelawney stated. The boy gulped. The professor continued as though she hadn't predicted some misfortune, "We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she interrupted herself again, this time talking to Parvati, "beware a red-haired man."
Parvati was startled, and slid her chair away from Ron. Moon supressed a laugh; it was unlikely that Ron would bring her any serious harm.
"In the summer term, we shall progress to the crystal ball—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 for ever."
Silence filled the classroom, but a small hope was lit in Moon's heart. Could it be possible that she'd be returning home in the spring?
"I wonder, dear," Trelawney said suddenly, snapping Moon out of her thoughts, "if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?"
Lavender stood up and removed an oversized teapot from the shelf and placed it in front of Professor Trelawney.
"Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading—it will happen on the sixteenth of October."
Lavender sank back into her seat, trembling from the prediction.
Trelawney then instructed them on how to read tea leaves. She told Neville about using a blue cup after he breaks the first one, and, sure enough, the first teacup shattered on the floor a few seconds after the prediction.
Moon paired up with Dean, and the two drank the hot tea as rapidly as they could. After doing the proper motions of swirling the dregs and draining the remaining tea, they switched cups.
"Yours here," Moon said as she flicked through the pages of her book, "you've got a wheel, meaning progress, and this little swirl here means creativity… are you an artist or something?"
"I like to sketch," he admitted.
"Really? Well, good luck with that. Literally, though, there's a horseshoe here. Or is it the symbol for 'together'?" she wondered, squinting into the cup. "You're either going to finish a huge art project, or seduce someone. I can't tell."
The two of them laughed before Dean started reading her teacup.
"There's a sun here, which could mean great happiness, or a new start. Second one seems more fitting in your case. A bird, meaning good news, and a little series of dots here… that means you'll be busy. And, er…" he frowned, "a skull."
"A skull?"
"It could be an acorn," he said hurriedly. Moon took her teacup back and checked.
"No, that's a skull," she said pleasantly. "Danger in my path, how lovely."
"Are you sure you're not a Gryffindor?" Dean asked, slightly more amused than he had been a moment before. Moon opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off.
"The skull… danger in your path, my dear…"
The two turned to look at Trelawney, who was observing Harry's cup. Judging by the look on Harry's face, none of the predictions had been pleasant. Trelawney turned the cup before letting out an ear-splitting shriek. Another teacup crashed to the floor (Neville again) and Trelawney stumbled back into an empty chair.
"My dear boy," the professor wailed, "my poor dear by—no—it's kinder not to say—no—don't ask me…"
"What is it, Professor?" Dean asked as the four of them rushed over to Harry's table. Moon tried to peer into the cup, but she was blocked by everyone else trying to do the same.
"My dear," Professor Trelawney said worriedly, "you have the Grim."
It took Moon a moment to process the words, but when she realized what it meant, a cold feeling sank in her stomach.
"The what?" Harry responded, somewhat bewildered by her reaction.
"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" Trelawney wailed. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen—the worst omen—of death!"
Trelawney's dramatic conviction had its intended effect, as Harry's face lost all of its colour in the span of a second. Moon noticed that Hermione was the only one who was unaffected by the proclamation, and that she had gotten up and was standing behind Trelawney's chair.
"I don't think it looks like a grim," the brunette said flatly. Trelawney glared at her student.
"You'll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."
Seamus had managed to get the closest to the offending teacup, and was observing it intently. "It looks like a Grim if you do this," he said, squinting, "but it looks more like a donkey from here."
"When you've all finished deciding whether I'm going to die or not!" Harry snapped. Moon gave him a flat, almost bored look, and whatever angry thing he planned to say next died on his tongue.
"I think we will leave the lesson here for today," Trelawney announced in that misty voice of hers. "Yes… please pack away your things…"
The classroom was silent as everyone returned their teacups and packed their books into their bags.
"Until we meet again," Trelawney near-whispered, "fair fortune be yours. Oh, and dear—" she said suddenly, pointing at Neville, "you'll be late for class next time, so mind you work extra hard to catch up."
Moon hung back for a moment. It wasn't until she heard the sound of footsteps descending the staircase that she turned back to Trelawney.
"Professor? I have a question."
Trelawney blinked, her glasses magnifying the action. "About your friend's demise?"
"About predictions in general," she stated. "Is it possible that a prediction, using any method, could have more than one meaning?"
"Such as…?"
"I… heard a prophecy, once," she admitted. "It basically said there was going to be a large fight between three powerful beings, the one supposed to stop the fighting would be unable to, and, I quote 'the world will turn to ash'."
"A very dark prophecy," Trelawney murmured.
"At first, we thought there would be some sort of mass destruction, but nothing happened. A friend of mine managed to calm all three beings before anything got too out of hand."
"Is that so?" the professor said, a cold note creeping into her voice.
"Strangely enough," Moon continued, "the friend who managed to stop the disaster? His name's Ash."
That made Trelawney pause. "Is that so?" the professor repeated after a moment, her voice returning to its misty norm.
"Well, his real name is Ashton, but no one calls him that," she clarified. Trelawney hummed and fidgeted, her bracelets and rings clinking against each other.
"I suppose," the woman said slowly, "that predictions can only have one meaning, and that it is human error, our own judgements, that cloud the truth. It is the job of a Seer to divine the meaning from the obscure."
Moon nodded, and thanked the professor before descending the ladder. She had Herbology with the Slytherins and the Ravenclaws next, something she was looking forward to.
Even with her staying back to ask questions and the odd layout of the castle, Moon was still the first one to make it to the greenhouse. Professor Sprout was there, setting up a series of innocuous potted plants.
"Oh," the woman yelped when Moon knocked on the door. "Miss Blakesley, so sorry, I didn't see you there."
"Didn't mean to startle you, Professor," Moon apologized as she stepped in. She gestured to the potted plants, "What are we doing today, if you don't mind me asking?"
"We'll be reviewing the Severing Charm," Sprout said.
That explains the plants.
Laughter echoed from outside. Moon looked over her shoulder to see clusters of green and blue robes heading towards the greenhouse. The nearest group consisted of two brutish males that could have passed for fifteen year-olds, a pale blond boy whose entire appearance screamed spoiled rich kid, and a pug-faced girl who was giggling at something the blond boy had just said. The four of them entered, and their laughter died when they spotted Moon.
"You're the new girl everyone is talking about," the blond boy stated, eyeing her colourless robes.
"I don't know about 'everyone'," Moon said primly. Their robes were all green; Slytherins, the main rival of Gryffindor.
"News travels fast around here," the boy said smoothly. "How there's a transfer student who's cozied up to the Gryffindors."
"I have most of my classes with them, unfortunately," she said airily, "I might as well be civil and not paint a giant target on my back."
Her words appeased the four Slytherins. The blond boy stepped towards her, hand outstretched.
"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."
Malfoy
The name rang a bell. She had read it in a book somewhere—a pure-blood family, one of the Sacred Twenty Eight. They were known for their pure-blood values, Slytherin traits, and vast fortune.
"Moon Blakesley," she replied, shaking his hand. Draco grinned.
"These two are Crabbe and Goyle," he said, gesturing to the two bodyguards with his head. "And this is Pansy Parkinson," he added, looking at the sharp-faced girl.
"Nice to meet you all," Moon replied honestly. The other students—both Ravenclaw and Slytherin—had trickled in by this point. Professor Sprout instructed them to go in pairs and take turns severing the leaves from the plants. Pansy was pulled away by another Slytherin girl, and so Moon ended up partnered with Draco.
"How about you sit with us during lunch?" Draco offered as he flicked his wand in the direction of the plant. Two twin leaves were cut from the stem and fluttered onto the table.
"Dinner," she countered. "Dinner would make more sense."
"Why?" he asked, almost offended that she had disagreed.
"I have another class with Gryffindors today," she said as she severed the rest of the leaves from the plant. "But the elective later today is with you Slytherins as well. Care of Magical Creatures."
His grey eyes lit up. "I'm in that class."
"Really? Well, that's nice to know," she said, switching the shorn plant for a new one. "We'll talk during class, and you can invite me to sit at your table during dinner. If any Gryffindor asks, I'll just say I'm being polite and not taking sides."
"Fair enough," Draco laughed. "You'd do well in Slytherin."
"I don't think so."
"Why not?" he asked, genuinely confused. Moon smirked.
"No sense of self-preservation," she said casually.
The rest of the class passed without incident, and the class was dismissed at the bell. Moon walked ahead of the Slytherins and made it into the Great Hall on her own. She headed for the Gryffindor table again, seating herself across from Hermione. The brunette pushed a bowl of stew towards the redhead.
"Ron, cheer up. You heard what Professor McGonagall said."
"What did Professor McGonagall say?" Moon asked.
"That Divination is an imprecise branch of magic, and that Trelawney has made many death predictions that haven't come true," Hermione said matter-of-factly. Ron pushed some of the stew with his fork before turning to Harry.
"Harry, you haven't seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?"
"Yeah, I have," the dark-haired boy said. "I saw one the night I left the Dursleys."
Moon thought it was odd that he called them 'the Dursleys' rather than 'my relatives', but she didn't think it was a good idea to ask just yet.
"Probably a stray," Hermione remarked. Ron was not as calm as the brunette.
"Hermione, if Harry's seen a Grim, that's—that's bad. My—my Uncle Bilius saw one and—and he died twenty-four hours later!"
"Coincidence," Hermione said as she poured a glass of pumpkin juice.
Ron was starting to get angry. "You don't know what you're talking about! Grims scare the living daylight out of most wizards!"
"There you are, then. They see the Grim and die of fright," Hermione stated. "The Grim's not an omen, it's the cause of death! And Harry's still with us because he's not stupid enough to see one and think, right, well, I'd better pop my clogs then!"
Ron gaped like a fish while Hermione cracked open an Arithmancy textbook.
"I think Divination seems very woolly," she said casually as she flipped through the pages. "A lot of guesswork, if you ask me."
"There was nothing woolly about the Grim in that cup!" Ron retorted.
"You didn't seem quite so confident when you were telling Harry it was a sheep," the brunette replied in a cool voice.
"Professor Trelawney said you didn't have the right aura! You just don't like being rubbish at something for a change!"
Moon eyed the Slytherin table enviously, wishing she had taken up Draco's offer to sit with them. Hermione slammed her textbook down on the table, sending bits of food flying.
"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!"
Hermione stalked away, leaving two confused and irritated boys and one girl who was trying to ignore everything that just happened.
"What's she talking about?" Ron said with a frown. "She hasn't been to an Arithmancy class yet."
"She might have just read the textbook," Moon said, although she didn't believe her own words. Ron turned to her, his eyebrows knitted together.
"What do you think?"
"Pardon?"
"Of the Grim," he said, obviously frustrated. Moon set her fork down.
"I think there is some meaning behind it," she said slowly before looking at Harry. "I don't think it means you're going to die anytime soon."
"Then why'd he see the Grim?" Ron pressed.
"Things will only ever have one meaning," she said, repeating Trelawney's words, "but our own judgements cloud the truth. There could be another reason you saw the Grim in your teacup."
"And what about the one I saw earlier?" Harry asked.
"It could be related, or it could be a coincidence," she said vaguely. "Just… don't go looking for trouble and you should be fine."
Ron was a little less agitated, and Harry was a little less worried about the possibility of his impending demise, but the argument hung heavily in the air until the three of them left the Great Hall together.
There was an error when posting last week's chapter. Not sure if anyone was alerted when it updated.
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