The Dark Arts
Remus Lupin
General Angst
Multiple Eras
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix
Published: 01/29/2005
Updated: 01/29/2005
Words: 884
Chapters: 1
Hits: 669



Story Summary:
Remus doesn't like Divination, and for very good reasons.


"I don't see why we have to take Divination at all," Remus said, which was peculiar in itself because Remus actually liked school. Not that James and Sirius didn't, but they didn't like classes unless they got to blow something up in them, preferably a Slytherin. Peter was ambiguous about school, on the whole.

"Because we do," Sirius sighed.

"That's a stupid reason."

"Oooh, listen to Moony," James said, waggling his fingers as his friend. "Moony has an opinion!"

"Yeah, and it's that you're a berk," Remus replied. He scuffed one of his shoes against the podium of a statue as they passed on their way to the tower.

"You needn't take it again after this year," Sirius said. "I hear it's dead easy, though. All making things up and staring at balls."

James sniggered rudely, and Remus rolled his eyes.

"I wonder if they're big balls or little balls," James blurted, and he and Sirius almost fell over laughing.

"It isn't funny," Remus mumbled, stopping to lean on the stone wall as they composed themselves. Peter patted him awkwardly on the shoulder.

"Why're you so upset about Divs? It's just class," Sirius said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

"Maybe to you, you haven't got any deep dark secrets to divine."

"Is it Divine?" James asked. "Shouldn't it be Divinate?"

"I'm serious," Remus protested.

"No, I am," Sirius said, and the other three rolled their eyes.

"What if she really can read peoples' futures and see into their minds and all?" Remus asked, beginning to climb the ladder up to the classroom. "I'm dead in the water, I am."

"D'you think they'd hire someone who can actually read minds, knowing you're around?" Sirius asked, emerging into the classroom. It was filled with small cushioned stools, arranged around bare wood tables covered with, of all things, tea services. It was cool and breezy with the windows open.

"Welcome," said Professor Skrye, smiling down on them. "Young Misters Black and Potter, Lupin and...Pettigrew."

The boys exchanged suddenly worried looks. Remus turned pale.

"Please be seated -- ah -- only two to a table, if you don't mind. Mr Black, I think you should be seated with Mr Pettigrew...yes, I know what you had in mind with Mr Potter...."

"Oh bollocks," Remus whispered, almost shaking as he sat down. "I'm done for now, aren't I?"

"Lucky guess," James whispered back.

"As you gentlemen are rather early, would you like a preview of what is to come? Ahaha, that's my little joke," said the professor, crouching between Remus and James at their table. "Most practitioners of the divinatory arts require one to drink the tea-leaves first, but let us see...yes, Mr Lupin."

"M-me?" Remus stammered. Sirius and James looked worried.

"Pour just a little water into your teacup...yes, that's it, right over the leaves...swirl it around a little..."

She took the cup out of his trembling hand, and looked down into it.

"Ah yes, Mr Lupin...oh dear me....often ill...."

Peter was worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, and Sirius looked as if he was ready to bolt.

"A great fear of your illness, for yes, it is dangerous, is it not -- oh! Oh!"

Remus froze, terrified, as she looked up at him.

"Consumption!" she gasped.

There was a moment of stunned silence, and then Sirius began to snort with laughter, concealing it under the guise of a coughing fit.

"Ah, do not drink the tea before its time," she admonished, thumping him soundly on the back. James watched Remus breathe a sigh of relief, and they exchanged a weak smile.

"I think you'll be all right," James whispered with a wink.


"Ah, Professor Lupin, glad to see you arrived whole and in one piece," said Albus Dumbledore, as Remus smiled and shook the offered hand. "Very good work you did on the train, as well. Have you met Professor Trelawney?"

Remus looked somewhat skeptically at the woman before him, draped in bangles and beads, with enormous glasses resting precariously on her nose.

"My pleasure, Professor," he said, startled when she clasped his offered hand in both of hers and gave him a deep, searching look.

"You have been ill," she said ominously.

"Professor Trelawney is our Divinations instructor," Dumbledore said, and Remus gulped. "I am sure you two will get along perfectly well."

"Yes indeed, a great illness," Trelawney said, and her tone was almost stern. "You will not be with us long."

"I...won't?" Remus asked, desperately trying not to think about werewolves and therefore, of course, thinking of nothing but.

"Yes, yes...clearly you are in for troubled times ahead," she said wispily. Remus began to panic. "For not many men of your age and condition survive Wizarding Influenza..."

Remus smiled at her, suddenly, and patted her fingers, which were still clasped around his right hand. "Forewarned is forearmed, Professor Trelawney. I shall endeavour to face my fate with as much sagacity as you have used in predicting it."

She gave him a serene nod, one last squeeze of her hands, and drifted dreamily away. Remus leaned against the wall, covered his mouth with his hand, and laughed himself sick.

"I wonder if her balls are big or small," he murmured to himself, as he entered the Great Hall for the feast.