"Seer Caelum Julien Black, tell me—what do you see?"
To his surprise, Professor Trelawney drifted over to his table first.
Julien quickly flipped open his textbook. "Uh… Susan's cup doesn't really have any distinct shapes." He turned a few more pages. Nothing.
"Use your Inner Eye, Black. Divination is a subject that requires inspiration."
"Well… I see some scattered little flowers. They look like the common afternoon blooms you find everywhere." Julien glanced at Susan, who was watching him expectantly. "I think it means that even though Susan may seem ordinary on the outside, she possesses resilience, courage, and a tough spirit. It represents a different kind of beauty."
He let out a long breath and caught the slight upward curl at the corner of Susan's mouth.
"Hmm~ Acceptable," Professor Trelawney said, nodding without much enthusiasm. "A little talent, but not much."
"And what about you, Miss Bones?"
"I see… something like a house in Julien's cup," Susan said hesitantly, pointing at an illustration in the textbook. "It looks like a church… or maybe an old castle. Does that mean mystery? Or perhaps the castle is Hogwarts. I do think Julien is quite mysterious at school."
After Susan finished her hesitant reading, Trelawney clearly wasn't convinced. She leaned over, took one look, and her face suddenly filled with shock.
In a hoarse whisper, she said, "It is indeed a castle—but not Hogwarts. The feeling it gives is cold and hopeless. Not a good sign at all."
Trelawney straightened up quickly. "Clearly, Miss Bones, you should reconsider your original impression of Mr. Black."
"What does that mean?"
Julien shrugged and spread his hands, but a heavy feeling was already settling in his chest.
"Mr. Weasley, you're next." Trelawney had moved on to Harry and Ron's table.
"Uh, this is Harry's cup," Ron said, frowning hard. "There's a blob that looks like a bowler hat." He flipped through the textbook—Unfogging the Future, written by Trelawney's ancestor Cassandra. "That means you'll work at the Ministry…"
Harry thought, What's the connection?
Ron turned the cup upside down and sideways.
"Now it looks like a coconut… what does that mean?" He checked the book again. "Oh—'unexpected gains, surprising gold.' Nice! You can lend me some—"
The whole class burst out laughing at Ron's reading. In the middle of the laughter, only Julien noticed a figure suddenly appear beside Harry and Ron's table.
It was Hermione. Julien's eyes brightened. The Time-Turner had made its entrance.
Suddenly, Trelawney's gaze locked onto Harry.
Her enormously magnified eyes widened. A flash of something close to terror passed through her watery irises.
She stumbled back a step and stared again at the teacup in Ron's hand. The fringes on her shawls trembled violently, like a swarm of startled insects.
"No…" she whispered, so softly it was almost inaudible. "No… it can't be…"
The classroom fell deathly silent. Harry sat frozen in his seat, green eyes wide, fingers unconsciously gripping the teacup tighter.
"Professor?" Hermione's clear voice cut through the tension. "Are you all right?"
Harry and Ron were startled by Hermione's sudden appearance, but right now no one cared. Every eye in the room was fixed on Trelawney.
She didn't answer. Like a deer caught in headlights, she stared at Harry, her lips trembling as she spoke the words that would echo in this classroom for years to come:
"My dear… you have… the Grim…"
"What?" Ron's voice cracked.
"The Grim," Trelawney's voice suddenly grew loud, as if announcing some divine decree. "In the tea leaves… I see… a great black dog… prowling through a graveyard… in the shadow of death…"
She pointed a trembling finger at Harry's teacup. It shook like a dry branch in the wind.
Julien leaned forward slightly. From his seat, it just looked like a random smear of tea leaves—something that could be interpreted as a dog, a deer, or even a flying broom.
"This is an omen," Trelawney's voice dropped again, filled with fanatical certainty, "the most sinister omen… a harbinger of death…"
"Nonsense!"
Hermione's voice sliced through the thick, terrifying atmosphere like a sharp pair of scissors.
She stood up, her bushy brown hair catching the purple light from the curtains like a burning flame.
"Professor! Every year someone is told they will suffer misfortune," Hermione said, her voice clear and unflinching. "Every year someone is 'seen' to have a death omen. But as far as I know, not a single student has ever actually died because of these predictions—"
"Miss Granger!" Trelawney's voice turned shrill, like nails on glass. "How dare you—how dare you question—"
"I'm questioning the method," Hermione shot back without retreating. "The shape of tea leaves depends on how you pour the water, the material of the cup, even the room temperature. Predicting the future this way is like trying to forecast tomorrow's weather from the screams of Mandrakes!"
Julien let out a quiet sigh.
Hermione's logic was flawless. But in this purple-silk-and-crystal-ball-filled room, logic was the most unwelcome guest of all.
He saw Trelawney's face flush deep red, saw the mix of fear and confusion on the students' faces, and saw the shadow in Harry's eyes—temporarily pushed back by Hermione's protest, but not entirely gone.
"Sit down, Miss Granger," Trelawney said with icy authority. "Your… rational mind… has no place in the sacred halls of Divination. Perhaps you should consider dropping this class and studying subjects that can be measured and calculated."
Hermione's lips pressed into a thin line, but she sat down. Julien noticed her fingers were clenched tightly under the table.
"As for you, Mr. Potter," Trelawney turned back to Harry, her voice drifting again, "you must be very careful… the black dog waits in the darkness… the shadow of death has never been far…"
"Don't listen to her!" Hermione whispered behind Harry.
"Next, Mr. Crabbe…"
"Obviously, you have no gift for the Inner Eye whatsoever…"
"And what does Mr. Goyle see…"
"Regrettably, your talent has once again broken through the lower limit…"
The lesson ended in a strange, heavy atmosphere. Professor Trelawney announced that next class they would study basic crystal ball reading, then vanished behind the purple curtains the same dramatic way she had appeared.
---
That evening, by the fireplace in the common room.
"So you chose Divination," Rosier said from an armchair, her starburst brooch glinting in the firelight. "Just to observe that crazy woman?"
"To observe… the nature of prophecy," Julien corrected, turning a tea leaf he had "borrowed" from Trelawney's classroom between his fingers.
"Grindelwald once said that true prophecy isn't about seeing the future—it's about understanding all the possibilities of the present."
"And Trelawney?"
"She's a different kind," Julien held the tea leaf up to the firelight. "Her predictions are occasionally accurate—like the one about Harry being the Chosen One. But the method is completely uncontrollable. It doesn't feel like the Inner Eye so much as…"
"As what?"
"Like a receiver," Julien said. "A receiver for some ancient power. She doesn't understand it herself, so she can only express it in dramatic, theatrical ways."