Devin hadn't expected the Headmaster to be the one to greet her personally but he had and she was grateful that she was wearing her gloves. She didn't want to think of what she might See when he shook her hand if she hadn't been wearing them.

"I wasn't aware Sybill had any relatives still around," Dumbledore hummed, leading the way into the castle and toward the tower that Sybill had taken residence in during her stay there.

"She doesn't," Devin replied bluntly, doing her best to mask her insecurities about being anywhere near this man. "Her parents were the last and they passed in… 81' I believe. They weren't close, really."

He glanced at her curiously. "Then, I'm surprised she had such a close friend. She never mentioned you."

She wouldn't. She was protecting me and I—Devin pushed the thought aside. "She was close with my aunt and she… doesn't talk about us much. She was private."

He just hummed, as though the thought of the eccentric woman being private was a joke. Devin's hand dove into her pocket again, taking comfort in the smooth feel of the jasper stone as she continued, hoping to learn more of what Sybill dealt with at Hogwarts.

"How was she? At Hogwarts," she asked.

"She taught Divination here at my request," Dumbledore said, bringing her to the stairs leading up the tower, though her gaze drifted down one of the halls where she knew the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower was.

She was trying not to think of her old school years but it was difficult not to when she was back in these halls, practically vibrating with old magic and echoing the laughter of children as they spoke of tests and Quidditch. Devin's breath hitched for a moment, quickly sensing her Sight trying to push itself forward and hastily shoving it away. It wasn't a big one, thank Merlin, but it would have still been noticeable if she wasn't careful. She couldn't reveal anything under Dumbledore's watchful eyes.

"Everything alright?" He asked, having seen her pause and she nodded, moving up the stairs after him once more.

"Yes, sorry. Just… reminiscing."

He blinked, surprised. "Ah, you were an old student then. Apologies for not realizing. There are many passing in and out of these doors."

I know and those unimportant to you are tossed aside to deal with things on their own, Devin mentally snapped at him, biting her tongue to prevent speaking any of her thoughts out loud.

"What house were you in, if I may ask?" He hummed, reaching the door and drawing his wand to unlatch it.

"Ravenclaw," she muttered, stepping into the classroom with him and immediately feeling her body sag lightly. Oh… Oh, Sybill.

She moved past Dumbledore, further into the room, and looked around with misty eyes. This had been Sybill's home for the last few decades and the walls seeped with her energy and magic. Devin was afraid to touch a single thing, knowing that the memories of them would come rushing forward the second she did and not wanting to be that vulnerable in front of the Headmaster.

"Can I… see her office?" Devin asked quietly and Dumbledore nodded, gesturing for her to join him at the door in the far end of the room.

The second she stepped into there, her heart stopped and the Sight shoved its way forward unbidden, unstoppable.

Sybill sat at her desk before a crystal ball, muttering under her breath, eyes glazed and clouded as her hands shook and quivered. She pushed away from the desk, crazed and swinging her hands around, practically bellowing at the walls. She ripped away the curtains covering her window, shoving them open with tears rolling down her face as she placed a foot on the ledge, screaming.

"I can't be here anymore! I can't! I can't, I can't, I-I—He's coming for me."

She turned as though seeing Devin standing there watching her. Then, her foot slipped, knee hitting the cold stone as her hand reached for her head and she was thrown off balance, falling, falling—

A hand landed on Devin's shoulder, startling her out of the vision as she whipped to Dumbledore with misty eyes.

"Her passing was hard on us all," he offered, trying to be comforting but the words tasted foul. "I am… terribly sorry for your loss."

Bile burned up the back of Devin's throat, making her feel sick at the kind of environment her friend—her teacher—had been trapped in. It was her fault Sybill had ended up here but it was his fault that she was dead. He should've known. He had to have known that Sybill's Sight was so dangerous, that she would be taken away by her prophecies and visions and risk her own safety and that of others when in the middle of them. What was he thinking putting her up here? Why didn't he have precautions in place should her visions cause her this sort of trouble? And her death being hard on him? On the staff? Devin could practically taste the loneliness seeping from the stone walls around her. Sybill had been isolated, cut off from the rest of the castle within her tower.

The classroom was warmer but only just. The feeling of students practicing the Divination arts was there but so was a deep-seated bitterness. Devin would have to take a look—a proper Look—to see more of the truth but right now, she wanted to strangle the Headmaster standing beside her trying to sympathize through his lying teeth.

"Get out."

"What was that?" He asked, having not heard her initially and she fought back the boiling pool of anger building in her stomach to try and at least pretend to be polite.

"I… I asked if you might leave me alone while I… go through her things," she said instead, keeping her gaze on the room around her and far away from him.

"Yes. Yes, perfectly understandable. I will leave them to you and return when it is time for a meal," he offered and she stiffly nodded, waiting for him to leave and hearing the door to the classroom close behind him.

She closed her eyes and took a deep, stuttering breath, drawing her wand and casting a silencing charm over the room before allowing that anger to pulse through her. With an angry shout, she slammed her fist into the desk beside her, ignoring the pain that rippled through her hand as she did it again and again and again. She grabbed the desk and threw it, huffing with sweat and tears mixing as they rolled down her face and dripped off her chin. Her lips wobbled and the rush of fury faded to be replaced with guilt and sorrow and absolute devastation. A choked sob escaped her as she dropped her wand to the ground and covered her face with her hands.

"I-I'm so sorry, Sybill. I'm sorry, sorry, so, so sorry," she breathed, sucking in sharp breaths through her clenched teeth. "I put you here. I-I put you in this hell hole with these… these fucking idiots. I should've stayed. I-I should've said it was my prophecy. Instead you just… you were rotting away in here."

Devin lifted her face from her hands and looked around the room. She stood, heading for the desk she'd thrown, and picked it back up; moving it back into place before lightly tugging a glove off her hand along with the bandages. Her knuckles were already turning a deep violet shade after what she'd done and some of the cuts from earlier had reopened but she didn't care. She just placed the glove into her pocket and spread her hand over the wood of the desk, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply.

Dropping into her Sight through objects was far easier than dealing with her visions. Objects held magic, held connections far more than people thought and it only took a small bit of contact and concentration before she opened her eyes and stared at the group of students who'd taken Divination with Sybill.

They were young, third or fourth years perhaps, all staring into their cups of tea to try and do their assignment. Sybill was at the head of the class explaining the process and was soon moving through the students to check on them. She looked… happy but it was forced. There were girls in the back gossiping and giggling to one another as they stared at some boys across the way. The boys were leaning back grumbling about seeing nothing or making jokes about their professor.

No one took this class seriously. Not one student was truly interested in what she was showing them. The closest were two girls off to the side chattering away about reading their fortunes and finding out how their relationships might turn out. They were enjoying it for the wrong reason and while it might have been something, it still made Devin feel sick. It affected Sybill too, who suddenly reacted to a young man's tea dregs with a gasp and a shout.

"You! Oh, how terrible! Such a horrible fate! Death! Death is coming!"

It was a lie or, well, an exaggeration at the very least. Death came for everyone and she wasn't wrong about that prediction but announcing such a thing to a group of young teens immediately brought attention to her. She had their focus now, their gazes. They would pay attention now, even if only for a moment.

The vision faded as Devin's breath hitched, pulling her hand away from the desk and clenching it into a fist briefly before leaning down to pick up her wand. She repaired the desk of any damage she'd caused it, cleaning it of the minor blood spotting and turning away to head to Sybill's office. Once there, she unshrunk her trunk and set both her gloves aside with her wand, wanting to handle every object by hand on her own.

She did that often anyway. She may have been a half-blood but she lived with her mother who was a muggle and her father hadn't ever been around much. So, she always used her hands to do things. To wash and clean, to pick herbs in the forest, to repair furniture, and paint and carve wood. If she could do it the muggle way, she would only if she knew she could control her Sight or wouldn't mind the visions it brought her. Today, she was here to remember her friend and she wanted to See everything she could. Every night that Sybill sobbed before her tarot cards, the way she so desperately watched her crystal ball to try and connect with those outside the tower, her fondness for the few students who cared even the slightest bit about Divination and came to ask her questions.

Devin packed telescopes and scales and pestle and mortars. She took all of Sybill's personal Divination equipment and carefully tucked it away in a box of her private things. She took her head cloth that was hung up over a chair, holding it close and inhaling the scent of lavender and incense smoke with a deep fondness for the woman. She tucked her clothes from her wardrobe away separately along with other items that were less personal. Things she could sell or would burn away into ash due to lingering magic. The rest she sorted through just in case, willing to leave some items there for school use and removing several books that wouldn't be safe for the students or even some of the staff to take.

All the while she allowed glimpses of things to pass over her, feelings and emotions, images, scents, and even sounds. Her Sight allowed her to be somewhat aware of where she was and what she was doing so long as it wasn't a big one. That was where she and Sybill differed. And she had been so proud of me. Devin's heart clenched, wishing she could've done more for the woman instead of what she did. Wishing beyond all hope that just maybe, there might still be something she could do.

Devin moved to her desk, the last thing she needed to get through, and dropped into her chair, lightly brushing a hand over the top of it and Seeing the many nights Sybill sat at the desk and graded papers or wrote letters… letters to her. Her gaze shifted to the drawer she'd Seen Sybill tuck the envelopes away in and opened it, expression melting at the sight of numerous unsent letters. Her hands shook as she pulled them out and started to go through them. Some were short, bits that Sybill had started before setting aside and not finishing. Some were obviously interrupted, with a stain or a swipe of ink marring the light cursive writing. There were only two that caught her attention fully, one of them being rather… upsetting.

Tear marks stained the parchment, smudging ink here and there as Sybill sobbed and apologized to Devin again and again. Telling her how hard it was, how she feared leaving the tower, how she heard the jeers and mocking from students and other staff, and felt so very alone. A letter of regrets and guilt and sorrow that made Devin's own throat choke with tears. Then, the other letter was opened and Devin could tell right away. It was a goodbye.

Sybill spoke of her fond memories of Devin, of teaching her about the Sight and how to use it and control its effects. She spoke of how proud she was of her and how she didn't blame her for running away. Sybill wrote about the students and how much she adored them, the joy of teaching, and how she wished—beyond all else—that Devin would have the opportunity to as well. She wanted Devin to come back, wanted her to look down on those eager faces, and feel proud of her students like she was of her. She wrote… that if anything happened…

Tears rolled down Devin's face once more as she put the letter on the table and slapped a hand over it, spitting a curse under her breath because Sybill wanted Devin to come here. Come back to Hogwarts and teach, of all things. Even though her experience was shit, even though no one thought of Divination as an actual, proper magic, Sybill wanted Devin to have students of her own. She wanted her to grow and thrive and experience more than just her little house in the woods in America where she'd been hiding away from everything. Sybill missed her, but most of all, Sybill wanted her to open up again.

"I-I don't know if I can, Sybill," Devin breathed, swiping at her cheek as her thumb brushed the parchment lightly. "I don't… Here? After what they did to you?"

But she could feel it. Past the loneliness, the bitterness, and sorrow, there was the smallest hint of joy in these walls. Bits of Sybill eagerly doing lesson plans, researching and diving into books to find ways to help those who struggled with the Sight, getting up early, and seeing all those young faces filled with curiosity during the first lesson. Sybill loved her students and her Sight and she wanted Devin to experience even the smallest piece of that.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts and she glanced up to see Dumbledore standing in the doorway with a small, sad smile. Devin wanted to smack it off his face, wanted to grab his robes and scream at him but swallowed the bitter feelings back. She wouldn't stand a chance against him in an actual fight and Sybill wouldn't want that either. Sybill had always been quick to forgive while Devin struggled to.

"Apologies, though it is getting late," Dumbledore said, drawing her gaze out the windows to see the setting sun already starting to vanish beyond the forbidden forest. "I have a table waiting for us at the Three Broomsticks if you're still comfortable dining with me."

She wasn't. She'd much rather retreat to her room at The Leaky Cauldron or simply return to America with her trunk full of Sybill's things. Yet, her tarot card reading came to mind. A big change… So, she swallowed and nodded, putting her gloves back on and ignoring his glance at her bruised knuckles as she drew her wand and shrunk her trunk once more. She placed it in her pocket and followed Dumbledore out as they headed toward the main doors of the castle.

"Your spellwork is impressive," Dumbledore commented, drawing her emerald eyes toward him. "The silencing charm you placed on the classroom."

She'd forgotten about that, not even realizing he'd performed the counter spell when he'd entered. "I didn't wish to disturb anyone."

"There's no one to disturb," he replied as they moved out onto the grounds. "The tower is rather isolated and there's only a few staff here now, preparing for the start of term. You wouldn't have been bothered."

She didn't argue with him, not really wanting to after her emotional stint in Sybill's rooms. Now, she was just tired.

"What were your strong suits, if you don't mind my asking?" Dumbledore hummed as the grass crunching underfoot became the gravel path leading into Hogsmeade. "Divination, I'm sure, but you said you were a Ravenclaw?"

Devin nodded. "Divination, Charms, Astronomy, and Herbology mostly. I… I believe I was decent at Potions and Dark Arts, and did well enough with Magical Creatures and Transfiguration. Struggled with History, and Arithmancy."

"Ah, yes. Many do. Though I'm surprised you took Arithmancy knowing you would do poorly. I expected Ancient Runes given your connection to Divination."

"My mum told me to challenge myself," Devin admitted, smiling fondly at the thought of her mother. "She taught me about runes at home, though… though they were muggle runes. There's very little difference really and Sybill would—" She paused at the thought, realizing she was again talking about the woman with the very man who trapped her up in that tower. "She would send me books."

Dumbledore hummed as they approached the pub, him opening the door and gesturing for her to enter as he followed and happily greeted the owner and the few people within. It was rather calm without all the Hogwarts students usually packed inside but it didn't stop Dumbledore from drawing his wand to put a silencing charm on the table they sat at. He either didn't want them to be disturbed or he didn't want their conversation to be overheard. Devin though, had eyed his wand as he tucked it back into his robes, not liking the feeling she got from it.

"What… What kind of wand is that?"

Dumbledore looked rather surprised by the question and shifted a little, almost uncomfortably. "Elder wood with Thestral hair as a core."

"That's… rare," she muttered, turning to take the mug of Dragon Barrell Brandy from the waitress before she walked off and Dumbledore eyed her curiously.

"You know wandlore?"

"Very little," Devin admitted, staring down into her drink for a moment. "I know of magic and trees, the feelings they give, and I've… I'll admit to having asked Ollivander about woods before."

"And yours?" Dumbledore asked. "Your wand."

Devin grimaced, regretting it now because he wasn't the only one with a rare wand. "S-Silver lime, 16 inches with… with a phoenix feather core."

"Silver lime," Dumbledore breathed, recognizing it. "The actual thing, I hope? I remember there was quite a debacle regarding that particular type of wood. Everyone wanted it after the rumor spread of its ability to assist Legimens and Seers."

"Yes, well… Ollivander said it was legitimate. He'd tucked it away and said it was very particular. I would've gone through every box in his shop if I hadn't… hadn't noticed it."

She hadn't noticed it really. She'd walked into the man's shop and before he could utter a word she'd latched her gaze onto the box tucked at the very bottom of a stack in the very back. She'd Seen it in a Sight, heard it calling to her and Ollivander had recognized the pairing right away. He'd not said a word when he gave her the box and let her pluck the wand from the velvet lining but the second she touched the cool wood, it was as though she'd found a part of her soul that had been missing. It was only after that that he told her what it was and the rarity of such a thing. Mentioning it to Dumbledore though may have been a mistake given it's tie to Seers and the Sight. He simply hummed though, sipping at his Butterbeer before food was placed before them and they settled into silence for a moment to eat.

"I have a request, if I may," Dumbledore said once they had both eaten most of their meals, dabbing at his lips with a napkin before setting it beside his plate and eyeing Devin seriously. "Due to the… unfortunate circumstances, Hogwarts has found itself without a Divination Professor right before the start of term."

Devin paused in eating, fork hovering before her holding the last bit of food that suddenly made her stomach churn.

"I understand that this is rather… sudden for you as well but I wish to present the opportunity to you."

Devin put the fork back down, staring at her plate and feeling anxiety well up within her. Had he figured out she had the Sight? How? Other than the wandlore, she shouldn't have given anything away. Unless he'd seen her in Sybill's office?

"I-I…"

"I understand if you wish some time to think about it," Dumbledore offered, misunderstanding her unease. "I will need to make sure I look up your records as well but I feel that you would be perfect for the role even if you were underqualified."

Devin grit her teeth, wishing the fork she was holding was the stone in her pocket but she couldn't grab it now.

"I would just ask that you reply by the end of the week, if at all possible. I fear if you do not take the role I will be short one professor and someone from the Ministry will have to take charge."

Disgust rolled in Devin's gut at the thought, knowing full well what the Ministry thought of Divination and how they would "teach" the course. Any other day she would've given him a firm no, retreat back to her home in America, and return to her isolation in peace… but there were so many things coming back to her. Sybill's letter asking her to teach, the tarot reading mentioning a big change, the feelings in the classroom, her sheer respect and love for Divination, and the fear of what would happen if the Ministry taught it. There was also fear for her safety though. Staying would mean being under Dumbledore's watchful eyes. He would find out about her Sight especially if she had a particularly big one and she didn't want to end up trapped in the tower or the school because of it. She didn't want to end up like Sybill, though a small part of her said she would deserve it.

"I… I would like time to… to think about it," she finally muttered.

"Of course. If you do decide to take the position, however, I will give you fair warning that the list of required texts cannot be changed at this point, though the lesson plan may be a bit more flexible."

Devin nodded idly, though felt that what he'd said was a bit presumptuous. As though he already knows I'm going to take the job. She ran a hand through her hair, glancing away and feeling her fingers catch on the tied bundle with the eagle feathers. Her mind calmed instantly and with the meal finished, Dumbledore stood to pay for it and gave her a seemingly kind smile.

"I look forward to hearing your response," he replied easily, shaking her hand as she nodded and he led her to the door. "Do you need any assistance getting back? I have a Floo to The Leaky Cauldron if you'd prefer."

"No. No, that's… that's fine. I can apparate there. Take a short walk to clear my head."

"Very well. Let me know if there's anything you might need."

"I, um… left some things in the classroom," she informed him. "Donations to the school. Books and things."

He nodded. "Yes, thank you, Miss Callahan. I'll be sure they're put to use. Have a pleasant rest of your evening."

"You as well," she muttered, watching him walk off before turning in the opposite direction and walking down the road.

She let out a shuddering breath, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders without him there. She needed a drink, some time to think, and desperately needed to resist the urge to bash her head into a wall for even considering his offer. She'd never taught anyone anything. She didn't know many kids other than… than her son but it had been short-lived. So… So very short… And a part of her worried about how she would deal with being around kids, being around magic, and those memories at Hogwarts. She had so many things to consider but right now she just wanted to drown for a moment. Just think of nothing and meditate or something for just a bit.

Decision made, she stepped out of Hogsmeade and apparated away, appearing just outside The Leaky Cauldron in a small side street and entered the pub. It was a little busier than last time but it was starting to get late and some of the more rowdy people were drifting off. She stepped up to the bar though and dropped heavily onto a stool as Tom headed over with a smile.

"Ready for that drink then?"

"As strong as you can give me," Devin murmured, making his smile falter as he turned to grab some Fire Whiskey from off the shelves behind him.

"That bad, huh?"

"I'm… I'm trying to be positive about it," Devin admitted to him, lightly tugging at her hair as she took the drink from him. "Picking up her things, remembering the time I spent with her… I just… Her death was preventable and it's frustrating that it happened in the first place. I keep finding out more and… Fuck, I miss her. We hadn't even seen each other face-to-face for years but… she did so much for me and now she's just gone."

Tom hummed, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder. "Death is always tough and sometimes it's unexpected and messy, but you trying to be positive about it? Hell, I couldn't do that. I'm the type who gets well into my drinks and yells at the world, you know? So, I think whoever this person was… I think they'd be proud of you just for that. Remembering the good times. You're mourning but you're pushin' forward too. I think that's amazing."

Devin cracked a small, sad smile. "Thanks, Tom. I'm trying and it's hard but… I'm doing what she would want me to do." She lifted the drink to her lips and downed half of it before pulling back with a gasp. "Phew, I'm giving it a week."

"A week?"

She nodded, lifting the drink again. "I'm going to mope and feel like shit and focus on her for a while then after a week, I'll try to move on to better things. That's what she'd want a-and I'll stick by that."

"Aye, that's the spirit," Tom said with a grin, giving her shoulder a pat and refilling her drink before drifting off to serve others.

She went through two more drinks before begrudgingly stumbling up to her room. She didn't usually get drunk since it often caused trouble with her Sight. Reality mixed with her visions as she fumbled about in the dark, stripping free from her clothes and dropping down onto her bed with a groan. Dark shapes twisted in the moonlight drifting through her window, morphing into various people and things. Her son peering out the window at the constellation she'd named him after. Sybill's large glasses reflected the light as she paced back and forth while muttering about the tarot cards she was working with. A set of dark amber eyes and snarling teeth shifting behind the coat rack.

She clenched her eyes shut—breath catching in her throat—and pulled the blankets up over her head, feeling like a child but not sober enough to care at the moment. An idle thought in the back of her mind hissed that she should've left after the first drink and relaxed in her usual manner but then she thought of Tom down at the bar and knew she didn't want to cause him any trouble. She tended to get carried away when using other substances and wasn't sure he'd care for her doing so here. Thankfully, sleep came quickly and she slept well, unbothered by her Sight or nightmares. The following morning, however, reminded her why she didn't care for heavy drinking much.

Tom cracked a smile when she emerged from her room the following morning with a frown on her face, rubbing at her temples. "Rough morning?"

"Remind me to stick to one drink only or at least have a Pepper-Up potion handy."

"Well, hopefully some food will help," he replied, passing a plate over to her with a full English breakfast on it, that she hastily started to choke down.

She didn't have any plans for the rest of the week other than working out whether she'd take Dumbledore's offer or not. If she didn't feel better from her hangover after eating, she'd probably drop by the apothecary to get something for it and find a healer for her throbbing hand that she'd forgotten. She didn't think she'd broken it but the dull pain was only growing more annoying by the minute. She also considered going through Sybill's things but the thought of doing that so soon made her uneasy, so instead she decided she'd look into some books at the shop to see what the students were working with for their Divination classes. The shopkeeper would have a list of the texts anyway and she felt using Sybill's personal books was an invasion of privacy still. Perhaps later… When it's not so fresh.

After eating, she stepped out and went to a healer first. She'd fractured one of her knuckles and was scolded for it by a scowling older witch as she was healed and given a couple of potions. One eased her headache and the other helped with the lingering pain in her hand, then she dipped into the apothecary anyway and picked up a Pepper-Up potion just in case and a Sleeping Draught. She had a feeling that the stress of the week would keep her up at night and she might need it. She then moved into Flourish and Blotts, eyeing the iron cage of monstrous books that were attacking one another and shaking her head lightly.

The shopkeeper heard the chime above the door and looked relieved when she passed the books up and moved toward the back of the shop where the Divination books were kept. She flipped through a few familiar ones, refreshing her mind of the old school books she'd used and the few that Sybill had gifted her. She was soon well into a new book regarding Capnomancy: how one could use the Sight while watching the smoke from an extinguished flame. She was so entranced by the book that she hadn't heard the bell chime again or the shopkeeper speaking with a customer. She hadn't noticed when a young boy was waved in her direction and only did when he spoke up.

"Um, excuse me."

She blinked, drawing her gaze away from the pages of the text to see the very same young boy who'd been alone at the bar in The Leaky Cauldron the other day. His dark hair was a little messy and he sheepishly pushed his glasses further up his nose as he shifted on his feet.

"Sorry. I, um… I need one of the books above you."

Devin looked up, realizing she'd blocked access to a shelf with school books on it, and she took a step forward, reaching out and managing to reach one with her height. When she turned to offer it though, the boy was gazing at another book: Death Omens—What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming.

"Is something bothering you?" She asked, immediately mentally smacking herself for engaging with someone she'd specifically told herself not to. But a boy wouldn't be looking at a book like that—with fear—if nothing was going on.

He still stared at the book though, looking uneasy and Devin finally gave in, reaching out and removing the book from the shelf. He turned to her, surprised as she flipped through the first few pages before snorting.

"What?" The boy asked, looking a little offended.

"Nothing, just… some of these are silly," she replied, stopping on a page and showing it to him. "The Grim."

He stiffened, looking worried at the image of the large black dog on the page and she closed the book before he could read what it said.

"They're based on the Church Grims of Scandinavia," she informed him, replacing that book on the shelf. "They used to bury living black dogs when a new church was founded to create a guardian spirit."

"That's…"

"Terrible, I know," she answered. "Though there are other myths out there saying a Grim is just the soul of the last person who was buried. A dog to guard the cemetery until the next person showed up. Something to deter grave robbers. They're… muggle myths but still. In the wizarding world, Grims are considered death omens but… well, all death omens are a bit shit."

His eyes widened at that, hearing an adult curse offhandedly like that and how she just brushed off something that so many people put faith in.

"Death comes for everyone," Devin informed him, placing the school book that he'd come to purchase in his hands. "Everyone will technically have a death omen because, at some point, they will die. Tomorrow, a month from now, twenty years from now. Death omens in Divination do nothing but frighten people who were already paranoid, to begin with. I suggest…" She leaned down with a small smile. "Using Divination to answer questions about the present."

His brows furrowed in confusion. "But, isn't the whole point to look into the future?"

"The whole point of Divination is to answer questions you have now," Devin corrected, straightening up. "No one really wants to know when they're going to die or how. They want to know how they're going to live."

He turned his gaze down to the book in his hands, giving the other book one more glance as she started to head to the shopkeeper to buy her book. He stopped her though, fingers catching the edge of her robe and making her turn with a raised brow.

"Um, thank you."

Devin nodded, leaving the shop and returning to The Leaky Cauldron, unable to get her interaction with the boy out of her head. She thought about it well into the evening while eating her dinner, while showering, while climbing into bed, and staring at the far wall in a daze. When her eyes finally did slip shut, words drifted into her head in a hiss.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…"

"...neither can live while the other survives…"

Then, sobs, the begging words of a woman, a mother.

"Please, no, don't kill him, take me, kill me instead."

"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please!"

The cry of an infant, a flash of green, the deep rumble of a flying motorbike, and the sad, solemn gaze of a young boy with messy dark hair, glasses, and a lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

"Harry Potter. The boy who lived."

Devin bolted up out of bed, covered in sweat and breathing hard, rasping breaths as a sharp pain snapped across her forehead. She knew that boy, had just met him in the bookstore, had seen him sitting at the bar without family or friends around. She'd met Harry Potter and given him advice about Divination and the obscurity of death omens. She'd just met the boy she'd made a prophecy about in 1980. The very same prophecy that had killed his parents. The prophecy that she'd told Sybill while bawling, drowning in fear for her life. The one her teacher and friend had claimed was her own to keep Devin safe.

She met Harry Potter… and that short interaction made her want to teach.