Chapter 103 Trelawney’s Prophecy (Third update~Please subscribe~)

After the third grade, there are elective courses, and the burden on their shoulders is even heavier.

Breakfast time.

Ron got the class schedule from Percy. He and Harry chose the same elective courses. When he saw the densely packed courses on it, he immediately frowned and wailed: "Oh, no, why are there so many classes today? School has just started.

first day."

There are three sessions in the morning.

After a short break at noon, there are three sessions in the afternoon.

"Hermione is much busier than us." Harry finished drinking the milk, cut off a piece of muffin, and stuffed it into his mouth.

Ron looked over, then turned his head back, comparing it with his own class schedule, feeling a little confused: "Hermione, there seems to be no difference between yours and ours."

The first class is all about divination.

Of course there is a difference, but it's just a very small one. On Hermione's timetable, a slash is drawn after the Divination class to mark another Arithmancy class at the same time.

Harry interrupted: "No, I don't want to."

As long as they can cope with the exams, they don't expect much.

"What is it?" Ron asked curiously.

Hermione snorted.

"Sibyl Trelawney, Professor of Divination." Ron followed Harry's gaze and read out the words on the copper plate.

"Are there no special arrangements?" Harry was also a little confused.

"Neville, how is your grandma?" Trelawney suddenly asked.

Harry patiently followed her instructions, but until Trelawney asked them to exchange teacups, they began to interpret the contents in the book.

They chattered and discussed.

"None of us can?" Ron muttered.

In the shadows beside the fireplace, a figure slowly walked out.

The other one was a prophecy related to Ciri in the world of witchers. In that prophecy, he followed Geralt and Ciri almost reached the end of the prophecy.

"So how are we going to go up there?" Ron frowned, a little confused, "You still have to bring a broom to the divination class?"

"Those born in December will slowly wake up."

Broomsticks are not very common, usually only Quidditch players bring them to school.

Suddenly, a soft, vague voice that sounded like a soothsayer came, "Welcome, my dear little wizards, I finally see you in the material world."

All the little wizards looked at her in surprise.

"I don't!" The Sorting Hat raised the tip of its hat with pride.

Harry followed the sound and narrowed his eyes slightly.

The Hufflepuff children were honest and howled.

"My mother bought that one. She didn't like it very much. She almost scratched Parvati's pillow last night. Such a high-quality cat scratching post like yours..."

At the end of the stairs, there is a platform.

At the end of the classroom, there is a row of shelves embedded in the circular wall, with many candles, quills, playing cards, crystal balls, and tea cups that fill the atmosphere.

Harry was unmoved.

It claimed to be the great, handsome, strong Sir Cadogan, a short and fat knight riding a spotted pony, and chased Harry all the way, inviting him to a duel.

The Sorting Hat screamed in panic: "No, Miss Granger, please don't!"

The Sorting Hat wailed: "You can think about it."

Harry had quick eyes and quick hands and grabbed it.

"What's wrong?" Trelawney asked in her unique ethereal voice.

Trelawney shook her head, loosened her hand, and dropped the tea cup.

Trelawney sobbed exaggeratedly: "It's ominous."

"I've been making cat scratching posts for decades and I really don't want to do that again."

Hermione sneered and shook her head: "Everyone knows what happened between Harry and the mysterious man."

"The red-haired crow changes flight path."

"His servants come to death."

She asked the remaining students to sit down, then she lay down on an easy chair, rocked, and introduced softly: "I am Professor Trelawney. You may have never seen me before."

Trelawney came over, her tone even more dissatisfied than Hermione: "Divination is a magic that requires inspiration."

The trap door suddenly opened, and a silver staircase stretched out, descending slowly without making any sound, landing lightly in the center of the crowd.

Hermione gritted her teeth and stared at Trelawney fiercely: "Harry doesn't know that. You are a professor, how could you curse so viciously..."

He personally encountered two prophecies.

It was almost the same as when Harry saw her last year, except that a few pieces of jewelry had been changed.

He just has cat-like eyes and is not so curious.

The desks are not common long tables, but more than twenty round tables. Next to the tables are exquisite printed armchairs, and sitting on the chairs are a bunch of bulging futon pillows.

"I will definitely keep my mouth shut."

Trelawney glared at her: "The stick..."

Trelawny suddenly felt a strange magic wave surge in her body, and her whole aura suddenly became ethereal and void. She slowly opened her mouth, and her voice became hoarse and low.

The other little wizards poked their heads around, looking for the professor.

I also came across a very annoying image.

There was a very strong smell of fireworks.

Hermione's face was expressionless: "Harry was like this every semester in the first two years."

Neville was stunned when he was called, and stammered in response: "Oh, she, she should be fine."

It wasn't until they climbed the last few stairs and there were no more portraits around that the noisy shouting finally disappeared.

"Oh, honey, you're about to be attacked."

There are many strange rooms in Hogwarts, but this one is probably the weirdest of all the rooms Harry has ever seen. It reminded him of the kitchen.

Talk to her for a while.

"And he, who is lonely and alone, will be liberated when the heavy snow falls."

Hermione was a little impatient.

But Trelawney didn't teach them this, she just asked them to make tea, drink the tea, and interpret the remaining tea leaves.

Hermione patted it: "Don't say anything, or I will take you back and use you as a cat scratching post for Crookshanks."

Most of the nervous little wizards breathed a sigh of relief.

The voice became higher and more unpredictable: "Divination is the most profound skill among all magics. Peering into the future and destiny is the ability to peer into the realm of gods."

Harry was looking forward to divination.

"One of the most terrifying and powerful omens, the big gloomy dog ​​that only haunts cemeteries!"

"Without insight, without inspiration, without sensitivity to fate, you will learn nothing, except to memorize the things in the textbook and cope with the exam..."

What is the essence of divination?

What does the prophecy mean?

Is destiny arranged early in the process, or does the totality of life together constitute a person's destiny?

This is what Harry wants to learn.

Harry, Hermione and Ron found a table and sat down together.

Trelawney ignored her and continued to turn the tea cup. Her hand suddenly stopped and she took a breath: "Oh, no, my dear child, how could you have such a sign..."

He was unable to feel the power of any ritual or magic.

Hermione shook her head: "It's best, that thing is still somewhat dangerous."

Ron leaned his head closer, like a pug, full of interest: "I think, I think, you don't tell Harry, tell me secretly."

She couldn't finish her sentence.

"If I were you, I wouldn't be so sure." Trelawney said this meaningfully.

"I rarely appear in front of mortals. The material world is too complicated and noisy, which will affect my third eye."

No need for a broom!
To be continued...