The Arithmancy exam was a challenge, one that Hermione adored – the equations and tables were difficult and fully engaged her mind. For extra credit, they'd been set to determine the grade someone else was going to get on their exam, and it was so delightfully recursive that Hermione couldn't help but smile.
She did a few equations, sketching out what she knew about people – Harry, Draco, Blaise – before deciding on predicting the final grade of Tomoko Kajiwara, the 7th year Arithmancy prodigy she'd met earlier in the year. Professor Vector scanned over Hermione's exam with scrutinous eyes.
"A clever choice," she said, nodding. "Only five possibilities, instead of a hundred. I'm sure Miss Kajiwara will be flattered to know you predicted she'd earn an 'O' on her N.E.W.T."
Hermione grinned. "I'm sure she's already predicted the same."
In contrast, Divination was a challenge. Professor Trelawney called them up one by one to look into a crystal ball and make a prediction for her. Most of the class sat around the floor underneath the trap door, frantically looking through Unfogging the Future for last-second tips. Hermione hadn't bothered to bring her book, instead opting to fight with no one in her frustration over the ridiculousness of the exam.
"How'd she going to grade us on this?" Hermione demanded, in full rant-mode at the base of the rope ladder. "Is she going to contrast her own predictions with what we come up with? Is she going to wait to the end of the summer to see if anyone's predictions came true?"
"Hey, that's not a bad idea," Ron said. "I could just predict that Ireland wins the World Cup!"
Hermione rolled her eyes so hard they hurt.
"I mean, even if certain things have great temporal weight, there's got to be multiple of those things, right?" she went on. "So if you see one thing in the giant web of time, but Trelawney sees another, is she going to dock points? Or is she just going off of what sounds good?"
"Hermione, I think you're taking it a bit too seriously," Lavender advised her. "Just be honest and tell the professor what you see in the crystal ball."
Hermione barely withheld a snarl.
When it was her turn, Hermione made her way up the rope ladder with great reluctance, already determined to drop Divination for her fourth year.
The tower room was hotter than ever before; the curtains were closed, the fire was alight, and the usual sickly scent made Hermione cough as she made her way through the clutter of chairs and table to where Professor Trelawney sat waiting for her before a large crystal ball.
"Good day, my dear," Trelawney said softly. "If you would kindly gaze into the Orb… take your time, now… then tell me what you see within it…"
Figuring she'd at least try to do it properly, Hermione closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths to settle her magic, and reopened her eyes to peer within. To her utter unsurprise, there was just swirling white fog, and on an impulse, Hermione decided to run with it.
"There's fog, so much fog," she said.
"No, peer through the crystal my dear," Trelawney prompted, a note of annoyance in her voice.
"I am," Hermione said. "But it's foggy, there–oh! There's a dark shape emerging in the fog, with other dark shadows around it. I—I think it's Azkaban!"
She tried to import as much temporal weight and drama to her words as possible. Professor Trelawney was scribbling keenly on the parchment perched upon her knees.
"Azkaban! Indeed!" whispered Professor Trelawney. "My girl, you may be seeing the successful capture of Peter Pettigrew! Look closer… do you see anyone arriving to Azkaban?"
"I see…"
There was a fight going on in her head. Hermione the #1 Student in the class was currently warring with Hermione the Slytherin. Hermione the Slytherin was screaming at her not to implicate herself, but Hermione the #1 Student was firmly of the opinion that she needed to nail this prediction in order to keep her top spot in her year. And it was supposed to be a prediction, wasn't it? So if it came to pass, they'd just conclude she actually had seen something, right?
Her pride won out. She wasn't about to lose her #1 ranking to Draco Malfoy over Divination.
"I see a woman, riding wings of fire," Hermione intoned, her voice mysterious. "She is… my god!"
"What?" urged on Trelawney. "What is it?"
"She's chasing the dementors—they're fleeing from her, but she's lighting them aflame! They're burning! She's chasing them and they're burning up—oh!" She broke off and swooned, as if overcome. "Oh, it's horrible! I didn't know dementors could die like that!"
Trelawney looked spooked. "My child, Dementors cannot die."
"But I saw it," Hermione insisted. "I saw it, professor. The strange witch burned them all up!"
Trelawney regarded her with wide eyes for a long moment.
"Well, dear, I… we'll leave it there, shall we? I'm sure you did your best…"
Hermione thanked her and headed for the trap door, fighting not to betray her defiance as she slid down the rope ladder.
"Harry Potter!" the professor called next.
"Good luck," Hermione bid him. She scowled. "You'll need it."
Harry grinned sheepishly as he climbed up the ropes.
The last exam on Friday afternoon was Ancient Runes, which had just been memorization and a few basic protection circles, and afterward, Hermione and the other third year Slytherins found themselves lounging by the lake, relaxing.
"I hate runes," Theo said darkly. "I get why they're useful, but still. Why can't I just use English?"
"It's not a symbolic language—"
"I know why, Malfoy, you prat, it was rhetorical…"
Pansy and Tracey were egging Daphne on.
"He helped you on the stairs," Pansy said, her voice sickenly-sweet. "It's only right that you thank him for his gallantry."
Daphne mulled this over. "That's true…"
"You're bound to be engaged by the end of the summer," Tracey pushed. "What's a bit of fun now?"
Daphne looked horrified.
"I'm only going to go and thank him!" she protested. "I'm not about to snog him!"
"Well, why not?" Tracey wanted to know. "He doesn't know you're almost engaged. He isn't likely to care."
"Who?" Millie wanted to know,
"No one," Daphne said quickly.
"Zakir Akram," Pansy and Tracey both chorused. They exchanged a glance and broke into evil giggles.
"Who?" Millie looked befuddled.
"Zakir Akram. He's a fifth year Gryffindor," Tracey said. "The one with the dark hair and the beard and the eyes."
"Oh, him," Hermione said. "I thought he was seeing someone – wasn't he with that Gryffindor Chaser at Hogsmeade?"
"Do you seriously know who she's talking about?" Blaise asked incredulously, turning to look at her with astonishment. "Based on 'dark hair' and 'the one with the eyes'—"
"Zakir is very handsome," Tracey said slyly. "He has a full beard, and he cuts it so there's a little triangle right here—"
"Oh, the Moor?" Blaise scoffed and turned to Daphne. "He's bound to have an arrangement of his own – I wouldn't recommend trying for a snog—"
Daphne went scarlet. "I wasn't!"
"Is Moor an offensive term?" Hermione wondered aloud. "I've only really heard it in Shakespeare before. But it doesn't sound nice."
Blaise shrugged.
"No idea. It's not in Italy, at least," he said. "It's just an identifier. It's not bad."
Pansy was still egging Daphne on.
"He's so handsome," she pushed. "Just full-on snogging him would be scandalous, but you really should thank him."
Daphne looked torn. "It would be polite…"
"So, who do we think got top marks this year?" Draco interrupted loudly, looking annoyed at the discussion of the 5th year Gryffindor.
"Hermione," her classmates chorused, and Hermione's face colored.
"I don't know about that," she protested.
"Electives add a new challenge, don't they?" Draco said. "Some of us taking easier classes than others, not everyone taking the same finals—"
"They do," Hermione agreed immediately, wrinkling her nose. "I hated having to make a blasted prediction for Trelawney – how's she going to judge that fairly? If she'd just given an exam on the meaning of different tea symbols or tarot cards…"
"You're terrible at reading tarot cards," Tracey informed her, eyes dancing. "You'd have done even worse on that."
"I might be awful at reading them, but I know the meanings from the book," Hermione said primly. "If Trelawney had given that exam, I'd have been fine—"
"Would you?" Tracey challenged, rummaging through her bag. She withdrew a pack of tarot cards and gave it to Hermione with a smirk. "Shuffle, Hermione. Let's see if you can do a simple three-card reading for yourself."
"Fine," Hermione snapped. She shuffled the deck, glaring at Tracey all the while, before shoving it back at her.
"Past, present, future," Tracey reminded her, flipping cards. "You've got Queen of Swords, three of wands, and—err—"
"The Tower again," Hermione murmured, looking at the people leaping out of the crumbling structure to their doom. She looked over the spread, her eyes growing astonished. "Actually, this is dead on, Tracy." Her eyes flew up to Tracey. "You really might have the Gift."
Tracey looked startled. "Wait, you understand this?"
"Yes," Hermione said. "Queen of Swords as past, this is Sylvia—"
"Who's Sylvia?" Blaise asked suddenly, sliding up next to Hermione.
"No one," Hermione dismissed. "Three of wands in the present – this shows that my hard work has paid off and I can pause to breathe, even as I look towards my next adventure, and Tower as the future…"
Blaise was cocking his head.
"I don't take Divination, but even to me, that looks pretty bad," he said.
"Only if you're in the Tower," Hermione said slowly, looking over the picture with a new perspective.
Tracey scoffed. "As opposed to what, Hermione? Being one of the ones jumping out of the tower to crash on the rocks?"
"I'm not a person in this prediction, here," Hermione murmured. A small smiled curled at the corners of her lips. "I'm the lightning setting the tower aflame."