A Foretold Love

If Harry had thought that his Potions class (which he had had immediately after breakfast) had been long, it was nothing compared to the double Divination he was being forced to sit through. The heavily perfumed room and the tranquil heat was putting Harry to sleep and it was all he could do to keep from dropping off completely. Near the back of the room, Dean Thomas was snoring soundly behind his Divination book and Harry wished he could do the same, but he was too close to Trelawney's desk to want to risk it.

Professor Trelawney's wispy voice was floating about the room but Harry had long since tuned her out. She was walking between the desks near the front as she spoke, pausing every so often to speak individually to a student and inform them of one grave thing or another. Harry only rolled his eyes as she stopped at his desk. He knew what was coming -- another prediction of his death. Ron had told him on their way to Divination class earlier that if Harry really had died as many times as Trelawney had predicted, he'd be a medical miracle. Harry had to agree.

"Mr. Potter," Trelawney said quietly. "You are a lucky one. A lucky one indeed. You can fool the fates. I have predicted your death many times, but still you continue to return to class." She smiled slightly. "I must say, though, that it will be a miracle if you live to see the end of your sixth year. You know He Who Must Not Be Named has returned; I have seen that you are his number one target, having eluded him for a second time during your fourth year."

From beside him, Ron snorted. It wasn't the second time Harry had eluded Voldemort, it was the third, but Ron kept this to himself.

Trelawney turned to look at Ron, smiling at him sadly. "Weasley.... Ah, your love life this year will be a difficult one...." She shook her said in sympathy, ignoring the blush that was creeping up Ron's face. "You will ask her out sometime in late October, early November, but the relationship will end sometime around New Years as she finds she likes someone else. You will be devastated," Trelawney predicted, "and it will take you some time to get over it though you will act as though you're unaffected. You will, however, go so far as to attempt to make a Love Potion to make her like you once again but, alas, it will not work. But you'll find another by your seventh year."

By now Ron's ears were flaming and the entire class was giggling and pointing. "I don't like anybody," Ron told the woman standing over his desk but Trelawney only gave him a knowing smile before gliding to the front of the room.

"This year, we will begin with something called Crossing Over." Several students groaned, knowing what this involved. Some, like Lavender and Parvati, appeared nervous but excited at the same time, while others just stared off into space, not paying attention at all.

Trelawney mistook the bored expressions on several student's faces for confusion, and she smiled as she began to explain what Crossing Over was. "Crossing Over is when we attempt to contact spirits of those who have passed on. Often times it is relatives or those we were close to." She turned to Harry. "Now, dear, your parents have passed on. Would you like to come here and help me try to contact them?"

"No," Harry told her shortly. The last thing he wanted was to be teased for trying to contact his long-dead parents in Divination.

Trelawney smiled in understanding. "Still too painful, dear? That's all right." She turned to Seamus Finnigan. "Your grandmother recently passed away, did she not? Would you like to try to speak with her? Find some closure perhaps?"

Seamus frowned. "My grandmother didn't die," he told Trelawney. "My dog did."

"If you're going to fall asleep, Mr. Malfoy," Draco vaguely heard Professor Trelawney say, "at least make an effort to hide it."

The blonde raised his head slightly and saw the mysterious woman standing nearby. She didn't appear angry as any other teacher would have but rather disappointed as though she couldn't understand why he hadn't made an effort to stay awake. Draco made a point of yawning loudly, causing the Divination professor to frown at him. It was a look that didn't suit the faraway woman.

"If you're finding it difficult to stay awake during the day," she continued, "perhaps I can speak to Professor Snape about setting an earlier bedtime for you."

A few people chuckled at this but Draco's hard glare silenced them. He turned to Trelawney. "Perhaps if your lesson was more interesting, I wouldn't have a problem staying awake," he countered.

Trelawney's face changed from disappointed to annoyed in a second and her mouth opened to speak. She stopped short, however, and tilted her head to the side, her annoyed expression transforming into a searching one. Then her eyes widened slightly and she took a step back, bumping into Goyle's desk as she did so.

"What is that," she whispered, appeared thoroughly confused.

"What is it? What have you seen?" Pansy Parkinson inquired excitedly from nearby. Her face was flushed with unrestrained excitement. "Is it a Grim?"

"No, dear," Trelawney told her absentmindedly. "I'm not exactly sure what it is.... It's very strange and has a wise and powerful aura about it... almost as though it was predicted long before he was born." She frowned and peered closer.

Draco rolled his eyes at the idea. "You mean to tell me people were talking about me before I even existed?"

Trelawney nodded slowly, still searching Draco's eyes. "I am. If, of course, that's really what this means. I can't quite make it out...."

From the back of the class, Draco heard someone hiss, "Death Eater. That's what she's seeing."

Draco's eyes flashed and his head swiveled around to face the back of the room, scanning each person to see who had spoken. But everyone looked at him with the same expression -- confusion and some slight interest. What was Trelawney seeing?

The professor suddenly gave a gasp and she swallowed, walking to the front of the class. "Today we will begin with Crossing Over. I'm sure most of you know what that is, but for those who don't--" She was interrupted by Pansy.

"What did you see, Professor?" Pansy asked. "Tell us!"

Trelawney shook her head. "It is most unusual. Speaking of it might prevent it from occurring. And this must happen." She sighed as her eyes seemed to slip out of focus as though she were daydreaming. The class watched her, each wondering what she was thinking and wondering if she would give in and tell them what vision she had supposedly had. But she only sighed again, blinked and came back to reality, whispering, "Poor Weasley," as she did so.

The class stared.

"Trelawney predicted Ron will fall in love this year," Harry told Hermione at lunch, grinning across at the youngest Weasley boy. "Then she said he will lose his love and be devastated."

Hermione snorted as she turned to face the redhead. His face matched his hair for the second time that day. "Trelawney doesn't know what she's talking about," she said shortly as she buttered some bread. "She's a fraud if you ask me."

For once, though, Ron agreed only half-heartedly. "Yeah," he said softly. "Right."

"Ah, cheer up!" Harry told Ron with a grin. "At least we didn't get homework! Trelawney spent the majority of the class trying to find someone willing to speak with dead people."

Ron snorted, his good mood returning. "She mistook Seamus' dog for his grandmother!" He guffawed at the thought, putting some salad on his plate.

"I told you she doesn't know what she's talking about," Hermione said. "You should've dropped the class like I did."

"It's actually an easy class. You just don't like her because she practically said you sucked," Ron taunted.

"No. That's not it at all," Hermione said.

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? So you're okay with the fact that you're not the best at everything?" He stuffed a whole half of a chicken salad sandwich into his mouth and swallowed it almost immediately after.

"Of course," Hermione said tightly. "And do you ever chew your food? Suppose it got stuck on its way down because it was still practically whole."

"I hate chewing," Ron said simply, "and you just quit because you couldn't stand the fact that you might fail the exam because you suck."

Hermione rounded on Ron, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Excuse me?" Her voice was shrill and angry. "What did you say?"

Ron was silent, staring at Hermione almost fearfully, and Harry took the opportunity to change the subject. The last thing he needed was for his two best friends to fight on the first day of school. They fought often enough as it was, anyway.

"I was thinking, Ron," Harry began, "what do you think about going onto the Quidditch pitch after dinner tonight? Get in a little bit of flying practice before the first team practice next week? I know I could use it after a summer of no flying at all."

"Sure, sounds good. You're not the only one who needs practice," Ron agreed as he reached across the table for the pitcher of pumpkin juice. He filled his cup almost to the top and drained it in three gulps. Then he and Harry resumed talking, their conversation now focusing on the sport of Quidditch and how they would win the Quidditch Cup again that year.

Hermione, however, didn't speak or eat for the rest of the meal and spent the remaining time glaring daggers at Ron's back.