Harry, Ron, and Hermione started the climb up to the North Tower for their first lesson of the term, having already gotten lost once and having to ask a rather strange portrait for directions. As they began the climb up the stairs though, Ron spoke up.

"H-Hey, do you know her?" He asked, out of breath already after the time they spent wandering around looking for the classroom. "The Divination professor."

"Not really," Harry said, telling the truth. "We met while I was staying at The Leaky Cauldron. She, um… gave me tips about Divination at the bookshop."

"Tips?" Hermione questioned. "How could you get tips about Divination?"

"It's a bit… complicated to explain," he said, grateful when they reached the top of the stairs and stopped on a landing where the rest of the class was waiting.

There weren't any doors to any classroom here but Ron gave Harry a nudge and gestured to the ceiling where a circular trapdoor was labeled with a brass plaque.

"Devin Callahan, Divination teacher," Harry read, suspecting it had once been labeled with Trelawney's name before her passing; silently wondering if Devin had a connection to the previous professor. "How're we supposed to get up there?"

The trapdoor opened at his words and a silver ladder descended, silencing everyone before Ron gave him a cheeky grin.

"After you."

Harry rolled his eyes but climbed up the ladder—followed by the rest of the class—and stepped into the classroom. It wasn't set up like most classrooms today, with chairs and desks lined up in neat rows. Instead, there were low-standing, circular tables with bean bags surrounding them. The curtains were drawn, leaving the room dimly lit and there was a small fire crackling in the fireplace, somehow not affecting the temperature of the room otherwise he was sure it'd be unbearably warm. The shelves around the room were packed with items; feathers, stones, bones even. One had crystal balls carefully perched on little stands, another had decks upon decks of tarot cards, and a large glass cabinet nearby had a large number of teacups.

"Where—"

"Are you all just going to stand there gawking or find your seats?" Came the drawling voice of Devin Callahan as she moved out from behind a bookcase, scowling down at the book in her hands instead of facing the students.

"She's American," someone muttered under their breath, recognizing her accent in an instant.

"I also have good hearing," Devin replied, finally looking up and snapping the book closed as she raised a brow. "Seats, please."

The students hurried to find their places, grouping up with their friends as Ron spoke to Harry with a grumble.

"She's a bit rude."

"Ron," Hermione hissed, as they sat with Harry at a table.

Once everyone was seated, Devin dragged a hand through her hair with a heavy sigh, leaning back against an empty table near the fireplace that was standing in for her desk.

"First thing is first, are we all comfortable with the smell of incense?"

The students glanced at one another, confused and when no one responded, she rolled her eyes and reached over, picking up a bottle and uncorking it. She stepped over to the first table and handed it off to Parvati Patil.

"Take a sniff. Once the bottle has gone around to all the tables, I will ask again if the smell is too much. If so, then I will either charm you or your table to prevent it from bothering you or won't use it at all."

Parvati nodded, taking a sniff before relaxing slightly with a smile and passing it to the others at her table before they sent it to the next.

"I'll talk while you're doing that and I will be blunt," Devin said, looking over the students as she moved back to her table and folded her arms over her chest. "I am not a teacher. I have never been a teacher and I took this position… out of respect for Professor Trelawney and what she taught me. As such, I will tell you what I know and attempt to lead you through things as a teacher might but I won't be perfect and I won't be the same as your other professors."

Harry felt a tap on his shoulder and turned, taking the bottle being passed around and hesitantly sniffing it as well. It smelt of pine, of the forest floor with a hint of rain. It made his tense, uneasy shoulders relax and as he passed it to Hermione, he saw the same sort of effect on her and the rest of the students in the room.

"I will curse," Devin continued, taking the bottle from the last student with a nod of thanks. "Quite a bit, if you're lucky."

A couple of students chuckled at that, making her crack a small smile.

"I am also rather lenient in regards to Divination since it in itself is a forgiving form of magic. Divination is always open to interpretation so oftentimes there is no right answer. Meaning so long as you put in some effort into your work, you will most likely pass."

Relief flowed through the class as the students began to think this would be an easy course.

"Are we fine with the incense then?" She asked, glancing around and finding one young boy sheepishly raising his hand.

She nodded, stepping over to his table and surprising the students by not drawing her wand but handing him something small.

"Keep that with you and you won't be affected by the smell," she instructed, making him nod and take it before she turned and idly tossed the bottle into the fireplace.

It shattered, spilling its contents into the flames and allowing the incense smoke to drift through the room as she continued.

"However," she said seriously. "Do not expect to get an Outstanding or even an Exceeds Expectations when it comes time for your O.W.L.s. Do not be so naive as to think you will get the opportunity to even pass your O.W.L.s without putting in some sort of effort on your part. You may pass this class this term. You may pass it next term but you need to understand that if you only do the bare minimum, it will cost you in your Fifth Year."

The students who had begun to celebrate shifted uneasily and with a bit of sheepishness. They hadn't thought about the future, just the year they were in and that was the mistake that she was pointing out.

"Now, that doesn't mean this will be an exceedingly difficult course," Devin said with another sigh. "As Third Years, this is your first time taking this course so you will be seeing my teaching from the start. As such, I don't have to explain to you how different my style of teaching is in comparison to Professor Trelawney's. All you really need to know is I will not be so lenient as to take disrespect for my craft and my beliefs."

The last part was said with a hint of sharpness that ensured the students were paying full attention.

"Divination is a highly debated magic. People constantly bicker and argue about its legitimacy or how it's done. I, personally, do not care if you believe in it or not, and as such, I will not grade you based on your beliefs. I will grade you on effort and effort only. If you show your respect for this craft—even if it doesn't offer you the greatest experience—and you at least try to make an attempt at it, you will probably pass. That being said, if I hear any disrespect, any bullying of those who excel at it or even those who fail—if I hear a word uttered about Sybill Trelawney's methods or my methods or anything of the like that can be taken as degrading or insulting—I will give you an appropriate punishment. Whether that be detention, docking of house points, or removal from my class, there will be respect here. Is that understood?"

The students nodded with a muttered, "Yes, professor," and Devin's expression relaxed as she let out a heavy sigh and dropped back against the table as it shifted into a bean bag with a wave of her wand.

"Good. Glad you all enjoyed the lecture and I hope to never have to repeat it again. Seriously, I've been teaching for what? Five minutes? I'm already fucking stressed."

Some students cracked a smile at that, though Hermione frowned at the curse and raised her hand into the air, drawing Devin's gaze.

"Yeah? Sorry, you'll all have to give me time to work out names. Miss…"

"Hermione Granger," she said, getting a nod as Devin leaned back a bit into her seat.

"Alright, what's the question, Granger?"

"How can you pass someone who can't do Divination magic?" She asked, frowning. "And how are we expected to put in effort on magic that's debated as legitimate or not? That would be like taking an exam on a pseudo-science."

Non-muggleborns didn't quite understand what she was saying but those who did started to murmur. Hermione was being a little rude but she was uneasy about this subject. She'd chosen to take nearly all the elective options she'd been given and this one was the only one she was uncertain about. What she'd read just made it sound like cheap fortune telling which shouldn't even be taught if there wasn't some sort of proof or backing behind it. Having Professor Callahan be so wishy-washy about things just made her wonder if this class was a mistake. What she didn't expect, was the grin that stretched over Devin's face.

"Oh, I like you," she hummed, making Hermione flush in embarrassment. "Asking hard questions right off the bat. First, let's answer the second bit. Divination technically wasn't supposed to be a subject still taught here at Hogwarts but Dumbeldore made an exception for Trelawney's sake. He was going to get rid of it because teaching it as a course instead of a master-apprentice sort of thing is a bit outdated."

Hermione blinked, stunned that her professor was admitting that her own class was almost removed for being outdated.

"Honestly, I agree," Devin replied with a shrug. "It's part of the reason why I'm willing to give credit for the effort put in because not everyone here will do well in this course. It has nothing to do with you as a person, just that some of you won't have the Sight and so you won't get the same results. I'm not about to fail someone who tries their best just because they don't have an innate ability that others might. It would be like Madame Hooch banning you from flying on a broom for being shit at Quidditch."

Another hand went up and Devin waved at them.

"Name?"

"N-Neville. Neville Longbottom," he said nervously. "Um, what's the Sight?"

"It's an innate ability that one might have that allows a person to glance at future possibilities," Devin explained. "Not everyone with the Sight will be a Seer, but every Seer will have the Sight. It's similar to how some people are just really good at Transfiguration or Charms or Maths."

"Maths?" One of the other students questioned with a wrinkle of his nose. "I hate Maths."

Devin cracked a smile. "Yeah, well, I liked Maths back in muggle school. Had a knack for it just like I do Divination. Not everyone does and that's why I don't think teaching Divination in a classroom setting as a pass or fail is appropriate. Figure…" She glanced around, doing a quick head count. "There's about twenty of you, yeah? Chances are, maybe three of you will be really connected with the Sight, maybe five of you able to get tidbits, and the rest might not be any good at Divination at all."

"But that's…" Hermione breathed, feeling that worry build up again. "That's forty percent. That means more than half—"

"Would fail if this class were a pass or fail based on innate talent alone," Devin agreed. "People used to believe Divination classes actually made people more in tune with the Sight but as time has gone on, that's been proven wrong. The courses have just allowed those with the Sight to be noticed more than if there were no classes. Without classes, it would be up to the individual person to recognize they have the Sight and then seek out a teacher to help them navigate and use it." She shrugged, palms up. "Most people with the Sight don't make a living out of it either. Not great for money-making unless you're accurate the majority of the time and if you're too accurate, then you have the potential of putting yourself at risk of those who want to use you."

"Like Seers," Parvati spoke up, making Devin nod.

"Yes…"

"Parvati Patil."

"Yes, Patil. Seers are exceptionally gifted and tend to be hunted down by those who wish to use them for their ability to give out prophecies. That's all that separates Seers from others with the Sight."

"So, what use is this class then if we won't be able to use it?" Another boy asked, seeing her raise a brow and he fumbled out his name. "Seamus Finnigan."

"Well, Finnigan, it will help those who have the Sight and if anything, for those who don't, it will be a nice break from your usual workload; full of drinking tea and attempting to tell each other's fortunes," Devin hummed. "That's not to say it will be all fun and games. Like I said, I expect some effort from those who wish to pass their O.W.L.s in the future but those uninterested are more than free to drop the course or enjoy it for the next two terms and not take the O.W.L.s."

"That's it?" Hermione questioned, unable to get past her shock as to how this class was turning out. "You're just… giving up on us?"

"No. Not in the least," Devin replied, getting up and stretching her long limbs. "I am giving you all the option to make your own decision. If you're not enjoying this course or getting anything out of it, I won't force you to be here and I don't expect you to force yourself to be here. Divination is peculiar and finicky. I won't begin to bog you down with details now, as it's your first day, but it's not everyone's cup of tea."

She drew her wand and flicked it toward the glass cabinet, drawing forth a cup and filling it with tea from a pot that had been on the fire.

"Which will be the first method of Divination we do on Monday," she chimed, getting a few smiles for the bad joke as she sipped at her cup. "There will be things you learn here that won't really be in the curriculum too. I'm a bit… unorthodox in my methods and do a mix of wizardry and muggle. So there will be some things not explained in your textbooks, though I don't intend to use them much other than for your homework or to help explain specifics that might come up in exams."

Harry and Ron grinned at one another upon hearing their books would hardly be used, whereas Hermione was frowning in disappointment.

"All-in-all, this class shouldn't be hard for any of you if you apply yourselves and anyone bored or unhappy with how things go are welcome to drop the class. This isn't a course for everyone and I am leaving it up to you to make your own decisions based on what I've said." She finished her tea and surprised Hermione when she set the cup down on the table in front of her. "Tell me what you see in my cup, Granger."

Hermione winced, reaching toward her textbook but Devin placed a hand on it.

"Without your book," she instructed, gesturing to the cup when Hermione hesitated. "Anything. Just take a look and tell me what you see."

Hermione slowly took the cup, holding it gingerly in her hands and looking at the remnants of tea at the bottom. "Um… a candle I think?" She turned the cup slightly. "Or maybe a sheep?"

Devin smiled, lightly taking the cup back. "I was thinking of what might be your future in this class, Granger. I was wondering how such a quick-witted witch such as yourself might do with or without the Sight. Patil? Open your book to page seven and read for me what the two symbols Granger stated might mean?"

Parvati nodded, eagerly flicking to the page and locating the symbols as Devin put her teacup down on her table—the bean bag having shifted back.

"A candle is the symbol for… enlightenment and the sheep is for prosperity and success!"

Hermione felt a little choked up, looking at Professor Callahan in slight amazement and disbelief. It was just tea leaves. They could've been shaped like anything. Hell, Ron could have had the cup and said it looked like a monkey and given a totally different response. Yet, this cup was given to her to make assumptions about—without her book to guide her—and it had been good.

"Now, Divination is not foolproof," Devin explained, giving her a pointed look. "It's not absolute and sometimes it's not even accurate. It could be vague or specific and you wouldn't know until something happened. Oftentimes, there are things even attributed to Divination that have nothing to do with what was predicted. All Divination is, is potential. Potential answers to your questions in the present. You're not reading your futures. You're not forcing your path in one direction or another. You are simply looking at a possibility with any number of results.

"I will do my best to show you how it works as someone with the Sight myself. I will explain things to the best of my abilities and I will attempt to give every person here something to gain from this course even if it's something as simple as knowing the difference between green and black tea."

Some students chuckled at that as Devin leaned back against her table with an easy-going smile.

"I hope every one of you keeps an open mind in this class. There will be no judgment here. Status won't matter—half-blood, muggle-born, black, white, poor, rich, smart, or educationally challenged. The Sight isn't based on any of that and I couldn't give a shit one way or the other. I just want to see you all succeed in whatever it is you're trying to do here at Hogwarts and if this can be a safe space for you lot to have tea and bicker about odd lines on your palms or whisps of smoke in your crystal balls, then that's all that matters to me."

The bell chimed then, startling the group of students who hadn't even realized so much time had passed. No one got up though, turning their gazes to Devin as she offered them a smile and a wave to shoo them off.

"Go on and enjoy your lunch. Leave all the Sightseeing and soul-searching here for the day. On Monday we'll start reading tea leaves so have a question in mind when you return."

The students stood up and gathered their things, chattering eagerly about their new professor as they climbed down the ladder and made for the Great Hall for lunch.

"Okay, once you get past the rude bit, she was pretty cool!" Ron said with a grin as Harry nodded.

"I'm glad that even if we don't have the Sight thing or whatever, it's not a fail."

"Might even be easy, yeah?" Ron said. "I mean, I'll maybe drop it if it turns out to be hard and all but she's kinda cool, you know? Doesn't care about status or nothin' and seems easy enough, looking at tea leaves."

Harry hummed, suspecting that it might not be that easy but still. He turned to Hermione though, who'd remained quiet.

"What do you think, Hermione?"

Ron turned to her too. "Yeah. You were kinda rude initially. Didn't think you had it in ya."

She shot Ron a glare. "I wasn't trying to be mean, Ron. I just…" Her expression softened and she sighed. "Oh, I don't know. I thought she'd be like those weird fortune tellers, you know? The ones who just use cheap tricks to con you out of money or something."

"She's a professor though," Ron countered. "I don't think she can do that."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I just mean that I thought she'd be more… weird. Like a charlatan or something. Someone who exaggerates it all like it's actual magic but it's just them makin' stuff up to scare people. Everything I read said Divination isn't a true magic. It's not something you can learn and it's not like turning a needle into a frog or anything. It's based on interpretation which can change person to person and… and, well… I'm worried about you, Harry."

Harry pointed to himself in surprise. "Me? What for?"

Hermione bit her lip as they stopped outside the Great Hall, shifting awkwardly. "I just thought she might… might pick on you because of who you are. Being the Boy-Who-Lived and having her predict your death or you saving the world or something but she didn't do that. Didn't do any of what I thought she might do. She even… She even went out of her way to give me comfort after I just…"

Harry could see her struggling and quickly pulled her into a hug that she returned tightly. "Hey, it's okay, Hermione. I… I'm happy you were trying to help me and I-I'm sure she knew you didn't mean it. I think that's why she went and thought about you with the teacup. She probably wanted to show you there were no hard feelings or something."

Hermione pulled away, eyes a little wet but not having cried just yet. "You think so?"

"I mean, yeah," Ron piped in. "She could've said you were cursed to die or something."

"Ron!" Harry snapped.

"What? It's true! If she didn't have Parvati read that part about the meanings she could've made something up ta make you look bad, but she didn't."

"You're just happy she made it an easy passing grade for you," Hermione muttered, not bothered by what Ron insinuated but knowing he was right.

Professor Callahan could have made a complete fool of Hermione if she wanted to but instead, she was sincere and brutally honest. There wasn't a single upset or disappointed person in her third-year class. Even the Fourth Years that she had right after lunch, who had already been subjected to Trelawney's teaching, were singing her praises by the time dinner came around and she wasn't the only one. Those who had attended Lupin's Defense Against the Dark Arts class were also eagerly discussing things there. The only new professor who hadn't received any credit was poor Hagrid who had an incident with the Third Years and a hippogriff.

"What?" Devin questioned, cheeks tinted a slight pink from the second glass of the evening as she looked over at Madame Pomfrey. "Someone got nicked by a hippogriff?"

The woman nodded, gesturing over to the Slytherin table where a group was huddled together muttering about what had happened.

"Just a scratch really. Boy's life was hardly in danger but he's Malfoy's son."

McGonagall sighed heavily, taking a long sip of her drink as well. "He won't let it go without making a lot of noise about it. Dumbledore might save Hagrid's job but if Lucius isn't storming through the castle looking smug by the end of the night I'll eat my hat."

"It's the hippogriff I'm worried about," Lupin muttered, earning quiet hums as Devin dragged a hand through her hair.

They all knew the poor creature would get blamed and killed for it.

"Has someone checked on him? Hagrid, I mean?" Devin asked and McGonagall spoke up.

"He's meeting with the Headmaster right now. School governors would've been called. Might not be done until late."

"Tomorrow then," Devin muttered with a heavy sigh. "I've got Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Years to teach though."

"I can do it," Lupin offered with a small smile. "I don't have classes until after lunch. Could give him some, uh… safer options for future classes."

"Speaking of classes, I've heard nothing but praise from the students about yours!" Flitwick chirped. "It's all they can talk about—Defense Against the Dark Arts—and I've never seen so many students interested in Divination!"

"I've not even taught anything yet," Devin muttered, face flushed in embarrassment. "Spent the morning tellin' the Third Years rules and expectations then did the same with the Fourth Years along with review on what Sybill had started. At least Lupin is actually doing something."

"Nonsense," Flitwick argued lightly, patting her shoulder. "It's always important to establish rules and boundaries with your students! You're doing well for your first time teaching."

Lupin looked surprised. "You've not taught before?"

Devin shook her head, lightly pushing away her empty dinner plate. "Don't know the first thing about it. I've… not got a lot of experience with kids so I'm just being myself and hoping it turns out for the best, really. I haven't a clue what I'm doing otherwise." She offered a small grimace of a smile as she pulled her hand through her hair. "Just trying not to drink myself to sleep every night out of sheer stress."

"You could always tell the elves to cut back on your drinks," McGonagall replied as Devin pulled her drink closer.

"Merlin, no. I'm careful and know my limits. I just… sleep poorly when I'm on edge, is all. I don't want to have to rely on Sleeping Draughts or… or other things to help me sleep. A couple of drinks after a long day takes the edge off. You try teaching a subject people constantly discredit to a bunch of teenagers who only want to know their future love life. Transfiguration may be difficult but you don't have to deal with all the girls bursting into tears when they predict the end of their childhood romance."

Lupin chuckled a little, leaning forward on the table to face her better. "You've already got that going on?"

Devil frowned, shaking her head. "Not yet. We've not done any actual methods but I can tell. I've got at least two tables of girls in third and fourth-year who I suspect are going to give me the most trouble."

"None of the boys?" Sprout asked. "I half expected some of them to be a bit more rowdy."

"Not so far," Devin admitted as they started to get up to leave the Great Hall. "I suspect when they start the methods and figure out a lack of interest they'll become a little more bothersome but I told them my expectations. I don't expect those who want to cause issues to stay."

"You told them to drop your class?" McGonagall asked, rather surprised.

"I'm not going to force anyone to stay if they don't want to. I just told them that if they aren't interested in it then they can go do other things. Only time I will force anyone to do anything will be if they show disrespect for the craft. It's one thing to not like a subject but another to treat it and the people who study it like shit. I won't tolerate that."

It wasn't meant to be a subtle jab at her conversation with McGonagall from yesterday but the Transfiguration professor winced slightly and excused herself to meet with Dumbledore while the others split up to head toward their respective bedrooms. This left Lupin and Devin heading in the same direction in comfortable silence until he glanced at her and spoke up.

"It's… Callahan, right?"

"Devin's fine," she offered with a small smile that he returned.

"Then, feel free to call me Remus. You, um… You were in my year, right? It was hard to recognize you with…" He gestured at his hair, but she was honestly surprised he knew her at all.

"Sorry, you recognized me?" She asked, surprised.

"Yes? You were in Ravenclaw, weren't you?"

"Yeah… Yeah, sorry. I just didn't expect…"

She wasn't sure what to say. She had gone out of her way to forget a lot about Hogwarts—especially her old classmates—and with how Dumbledore and Flitwick had reacted, she didn't expect anyone to recognize her as a previous student. She sighed and dragged a hand through her hair, not seeing his gaze drift to the scar on her temple with a small frown.

"I distanced myself from a lot of things… because of the war and all. I kept to myself so… I was fine with people not remembering me."

"This… might not be my place but I don't think you are," Remus said as they stopped outside his room.

Devin eyed him for a second before shrugging. "Maybe you're right." She then cracked a smile, trying to break some of the tension between them. "You should try Divination."

He smiled sheepishly back, waving a hand. "No, no. I-I was never that good at it."

"It's fine to say you don't believe it, you know," Devin replied, relaxing a bit. "Like I told the kids, I'm not about to be upset you don't believe in Divination magic."

"It's not that I don't believe in it…" He muttered but she waved him off.

"It's fine. You don't need to explain it. It's been a long day, we don't know each other much at all, you've got no obligation to explain anything. That…" She gave him a cheeky smile. "...and I'm not drunk enough for a debate about Divination or a trip down memory lane."

"Very well," he replied easily, smiling a little himself. "Good night, Devin."

"Night, Remus."


She was running through the Forbidden Forest, breathing hard and afraid to look behind her. It felt like she was being chased but she knew they hadn't figured it out yet. They couldn't work it out before, so that shouldn't have changed. Yet the air was filled with a chill that settled into her bones and made them ache. Still, she ran, all four limbs burning at the exertion but it was much better than being in that cell listening to the cries of the damned.

She broke through the trees near the edge of the grounds, finally risking a chance to look behind her to find nothing. Relief flooded her veins and she turned to face the castle ahead of her as anticipation filled her. He was in there. The source of all her problems was in there living it up and she—he—wasn't about to let this opportunity slip by. He would find the rat and kill him for what he did. His betrayal, his lies. Sirius wouldn't let him get away with it and… and if Harry was here…

A soft whine escaped him at the thought of his Godson and the chance to see him, but a twig snapped nearby and he was on high alert, quickly dashing back into the forest before he could be spotted. He would need to be patient and as his stomach clenched tight with hunger, he turned his attention to hunting down something to eat first. Besides, it could be worse. At least it wasn't a full moon.

Devin bolted upright with a gasp of air, shaking slightly after the Sight even though nothing bad had happened. The visions drained her with her emotional connection to the people in them and she recognized that chill. She dragged her bare legs out from under her blankets, glancing out the window and squinting at the sky that was only just starting to light up. It was early. Far too early to be up and having sweets but the cold from the Sight hung heavily on her shoulders along with the hunger pains. Sirius Black had been running from Dementors and Devin frowned, rubbing at her eyes as she got up and pulled on something to wear.

She left her room and headed down to the Great Hall, bringing with her the book she'd bought about Capnomancy to keep her mind occupied and off the Sight she'd had. She was the only one in the Great Hall when she arrived but the elves were quick to send up some coffee, a bar of chocolate at her request, and her breakfast. She ate the chocolate first to soothe the icy chill, swallowing a mouthful of coffee after to try and wake herself up some. Then, she started to pick at her food as students and staff began to drift in.

"You're up early," Remus said, drawing her attention from her book as he sat down beside her and caught sight of the wrapper beside her plate. "Chocolate? For breakfast?"

Devin sighed softly, waving a hand nonchalantly before grabbing her coffee again. "It's the Dementors. Just woke up a bit cold, is all."

"I see," he muttered, taking a bite of his toast. "Are you knowledgeable about dark creatures?"

"Some," she replied easily. "There's a lot of magical and non-magical creatures that can be related to Divination. Ravens, cats, goats, Demiguise, Centaurs, Hags, Grims. Not that I've only studied those but I know enough."

"Were you good at Defense Against the Dark Arts? As a student?"

Devin wrinkled her nose. "Sort of. I did well enough, I think, though my dueling has a lot to be desired. Don't like fighting but… had to get over that." She glanced over at him as her empty plate vanished from the table and she started to get up. "Fought because I had to and… typically while running away. I've always been a coward."

Remus went to argue that but hesitated. As she'd said the night before, they didn't know each other well. He didn't remember seeing her during the war at all, didn't know what she did or where she was at the time. He didn't know a thing about her other than her fondness for Divination and her having a connection with Sybill Trelawney. He didn't feel he had the right to say anything for or against what she was saying and a part of him hated that.

She seemed… decent, for a witch. Not that he met very many who weren't decent but… given what he was, it wasn't often he was treated without some sort of malice or fear. Dumbledore had said all the staff knew about his condition but she treated him like a normal person. Even the other professors held some sort of pity or concern toward him. Or hatred, in Snape's case. He didn't get that feeling from her, though there was definitely something she wasn't saying.

Something important because there was no way she was dealing with the feeling of the Dementors unless she'd wandered off into the Forest. They weren't allowed this close to the school and he would've felt it if they'd come anywhere near her room since it wasn't too far from his own. Yet, she looked pale when he'd walked in and was only now regaining some color with a full meal, chocolate, and some coffee.

"I—" He paused, hesitating before changing what he was going to say to something less personal. "I have more chocolate if you need any. Just… let me know."

She watched him for a second—green eyes meeting his blue ones—before she nodded and glanced away. "Sure. I'll let you know."

He watched her walk off, waving a gloved hand at some students who greeted her before he jumped when Sprout sat beside him with a hum.

"See something you like?"

Remus flushed at the accusation, quickly holding up his hands. "No! No, I was just…" His gaze flickered back toward the doors she'd left through. "…just worried, is all."

"Worried?" She questioned as Madame Pomfrey joined her along with McGonagall. "About Devin?"

McGonagall snorted. "Trust me, she's not someone you need to be worried about."

Remus frowned, not sure about that. "Why not? She was pale when I walked in. Said something about the Dementors."

Madame Pomfrey perked up at that. "So soon? They're still at the edge of the grounds, are they not? It's a bit chilly with them around but they're so far off it's hardly noticeable."

"She was eating chocolate with her breakfast," Remus replied.

"I will check in with her later then," the healer hummed. "It won't do to have a professor being ill on only the second day."

Remus felt a bit of relief at that but still eyed McGonagall. "But what did you mean? Why shouldn't we worry?"

The woman frowned slightly, though not because she was upset, just a little confused and a bit guilty. "I thought you were talking about her attitude. I only meant to not be fooled by her awkward demeanor. She can fight when she wishes and doesn't need us pitying her after what happened to Sybill."

Remus didn't agree entirely but could see where she was coming from. Devin was an adult who could deal with some things on her own without them trying to parent her or tell her everything was alright when it might not be. Still, something about this bothered him.

"Was she close? With Trelawney? I'm afraid I don't know much about her."

"Neither do we, really," Sprout said quietly. "I can only remember a shy young woman who wrote an excellent essay in her exams. I couldn't tell you much else. She was… quiet while in school."

Madame Pomfrey nodded as well. "She went to the infirmary a few times though I don't remember what for. There were so many students going in and out. It's hard to recognize someone who wasn't going out of their way to be noticed."

"Her aunt was close with Sybill," McGonagall explained to him as well. "Taught her things about the Sight and Divination, I'm sure. Albus wouldn't have hired her if she didn't show some promise. She is… passionate about her field of study but I do not know much more than that. I would suggest asking Filius, as he was her head of house but he has already stated he doesn't know much about her."

"You'll just have to ask her yourself, it seems," Sprout replied, offering Remus a small teasing smile, though it was tinted with sadness.

They all knew Devin had undoubtedly gone unnoticed as a student at Hogwarts, which was sad on its own but Remus wondered if they also realized how quickly she was trying to do the same now. A bitter feeling rolled in his stomach at the thought of them knowing but doing nothing about it, but he pushed it aside for now and got up from the table.

"Leaving already?" Madame Pomfrey asked and he nodded.

"I already promised to check up on Hagrid this morning. I best do that so we both have plenty of time to talk before our lessons."

"Don't let him give you any of those stone cakes," the healer warned. "The amount of times I've had to repair cracked teeth…"

Remus managed a small smile at that but waved his farewells to the women at the staff table and stepped out, wondering if he should check in with Devin as well between lectures.

"It wouldn't hurt…"