Third year at Hogwarts began with choices.
Monday morning, Julien stood in front of the elective course board, spinning his silver lime wand between his fingers with the same casual skill he used to flick pens in his previous life.
The corridor was packed with chattering third-years, all stressing over their choices as if picking the wrong subject would decide whether they became Minister of Magic or ended up selling fireworks on the street.
"Ancient Runes," Edgar Finch pushed up his glasses and solemnly checked the box on his parchment. "It's a Ravenclaw tradition. The foundation of all wisdom."
"I'm taking it too," Casen Moretti said, unusually serious for once. "I heard the new Runes professor isn't old Binns anymore. It's his assistant, Yuna Olafstdottir. She's a total Swedish beauty!"
"Get your mind out of the gutter," Cho Chang smacked Casen on the head as she walked by, then turned to Julien. "Julien, I still can't believe you're actually signing up for Professor Trelawney's Divination class. That airy-fairy nonsense? You, a Muggle-born, actually believe in that stuff?"
"We have Gypsy fortune-tellers back in the Muggle world too," Julien replied.
"Really? Are they pretty?" Casen perked up again. "Maybe I should switch to Divination…"
Cho shot him a withering look and kept talking to Julien. "They say she predicts one or two student deaths every year, but none of them ever come true."
"Which probably means the exams are easy to pass," Julien said with a small grin. "I heard from Cedric that you can scrape by just by writing that someone's going to have bad luck. Trelawney loves that kind of thing."
"Hmph. Birds of a feather," Cho muttered, cheeks flushing slightly as she walked off.
Julien didn't mention the real reason: during those midnight lessons in Grindelwald's tower, connected by the rose-shaped keys, he had already learned ancient symbols ten times more complex than anything in the third-year Runes textbook.
"I'm taking Divination," Julien wrote on his parchment, "and Care of Magical Creatures."
"You're really sure?" Casen lowered his voice. "Professor Trelawney is kind of…"
"An interesting subject for observation," Julien finished, folding the schedule and slipping it into his pocket. "Don't worry. I just want to see the world from a different angle."
There was one more reason he kept to himself: deep in the Magical Resonance Library, the book The Alchemical Essence of Prophecy: From Tea Leaf Formation to Probabilistic Divination was already generating.
There might be a connection between Trelawney's vague, misty predictions and Grindelwald's precise calculations—something he didn't fully understand yet.
And connections usually meant power.
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Divination class was held in the North Tower. Climbing the stairs was its own challenge.
Unlike the rest of Hogwarts' stairs, these didn't move in any predictable pattern. They spiraled upward in a dizzying, disorienting way, as if deliberately trying to strip away your sense of direction.
Julien followed behind Harry and Ron, listening to Ron complain that he'd eaten too much at breakfast and now felt like throwing up. He took a cautious step back.
"I heard Professor Trelawney's classroom looks like a tea shop," Harry said, trying to lighten the mood. "Silk drapes and crystal balls everywhere."
"I heard her glasses are crystal balls," Ron grumbled. "Big, round ones that glow all weird."
The classroom door was a trapdoor that opened into a space completely drowned in purple silk.
Purple curtains, purple tablecloths, even the air smelled purple—a heavy mix of lavender and old tea leaves.
Round little tables were scattered throughout the room. It really did feel more like a tea parlor than a classroom.
Each table held a mismatched tea set—not the standard white Ministry porcelain, but cracked, chipped antiques that looked salvaged from some bankrupt noble's estate.
Julien chose a seat by the window—good view of the whole room and an easy escape route if needed. (This was Hogwarts, after all.)
He scanned the other students:
Harry and Ron were squeezed together at one table, fiddling with the teapot and lid.
Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff and Neville Longbottom from Gryffindor sat together, using their wands to push the curtains aside for more light.
Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin huddled in a corner, holding silk handkerchiefs over their noses like the tea scent was poisonous.
Crabbe and Goyle had already demolished the snacks on their table and were now eyeing everyone else's plates like hungry vultures.
Pretty much all the slackers had gathered in one place.
"Welcome…" a dreamy voice floated out from the shadows, sounding like it came from very far away. "Welcome… at last… to meet you in the material plane…"
Sybil Trelawney seemed to "emerge" from behind a curtain—using that word because she really did look like she was being pushed out by some stage mechanism.
She was painfully thin, wrapped in layer after layer of shawls and scarves, each embroidered with different astrological symbols.
Her glasses weren't exactly crystal balls, but they were ridiculously oversized, magnifying her watery eyes to an almost aquatic-creature level.
"I am Sybil Trelawney—your Divination professor." Her voice rose and fell, near and distant, like she was reciting an ancient verse.
"My great-great-grandmother was Cassandra Trelawney, the great Seer, whose prophecies were never… never misunderstood."
Julien noticed the subtle pause before "never misunderstood." Clever wording—not "never wrong," but "never misunderstood." It left the perfect escape hatch for every future mistake.
"Divination," Professor Trelawney continued, waving her hands in elaborate patterns through the air, "is the noblest branch of magic. It is not spells, not potions—it is conversation with the universe itself. Here, we shall learn to read tea leaves, interpret crystal balls, and listen to the whispers of the stars…"
Julien noted that every professor started their first class by explaining why their subject was the most important one.
"Right. Our first lesson will be tea leaf divination."
"What are you waiting for? Everyone make yourselves a cup of tea, then pour the liquid out. We only need to observe the shapes formed by the leaves at the bottom."
"Mr. Crabbe, I will say it again—this tea is not for drinking! Do you want me to read the shapes from the coating on your tongue?"
"Once you've done that, switch cups with your partner, examine the leaf patterns in their cup, and consult your textbook for the meaning."
Julien's partner was Susan Bones from Hufflepuff—the girl who often carried a golden toad and served as a quiet little informant for Cassian from the Department of Mysteries.
She had originally come with Hannah, but somehow Hannah ended up sitting with Neville, leaving Susan to sit with Julien.
"Let me look at yours, Julien." Susan picked up his cup with interest. "Hmm… wow, this is a total mess. I can't make anything out."
"Just check the textbook," Julien said with a smile, picking up Susan's cup in return.
The tea leaves were scattered randomly across the bottom with no clear shape. If he had to force an interpretation, they looked a bit like the nameless little flowers that grew all over the school grounds—the ones students called "afternoon blooms" because they only opened from midday until evening.