All the classes were full. ALL the classes were full. She doesn’t even know how it happened, she had a plan, a very meticulous, perfectly organized seven year plan that she made in her first year. And yes, she had changed it, swapped things around but she had always stuck to it. And now Professor oh I caught the wizard-flu Bidds was no longer going to be teaching at Hogwarts. Seriously it wasn’t like the wizard-flu was a death sentence, you could still teach a class if you inexplicably started hovering. They could put a chalkboard on the ceiling. Hermione nodded her head decidedly. Yes, that is what they should have done. Afterall who would want Divination class over the History of Hogwarts a History, the book with no author.
Now Hermione was stuck traipsing up the moving staircase to the (second) tallest tower in the castle for a class that taught already stuck up mean girls how to fib just that much more. And Professor Dare? Dare what? The name was obviously part of a ruse, why on Earth did Dumbledore even hire such a loon in the first place?
She arrived at the tower soon after and climbed up the ladder into a circular room. On the left side was a massive wall, covered in various artistic scenes. They were obviously done with paint as she could see drip marks just about everywhere. The pictures stacked on top of each other, covering the older ones and surrounding the newer ones in a mirage of colors. Okay, Hermione could at least admit that was pretty. Professor Dare should have just stuck with art, that’s a talent she could actually do. On the right side of the room cushions sat on stone shelves like in an old Greek amphitheater. Small tables (also covered in layers of paint) were meticulously placed in front of the cushions and to the far far right was a door. Must be the Professor's office.
How was this a classroom. She sat down.
Besides being a load of bull the class apparently didn’t even have a syllabus, or a solid schedule! Professor Dare came out in a blur of color and red hair, clothes, like the walls, also covered in flecks of paint. She stood at the front of the class, hands on her hips, a smile on her face and announced, “There's eight more of you than the roster said, what was it that Professor Bidds caught? He was floating in my dreams last week”. Annabeth groaned. The rest of the class broke out in applause.
They spent the first class getting their own “futures” read. Not fortunes, Professor Dare declared that anyone who claimed to be able to read your fortune was a no-good crook. Hermione thought that was a little hypocritical. Tins of paint were passed out to various students and they were instructed to platter it on their neighbors face. Hermione almost walked out right then and there.
Dare then went from student to student and told them some crazy, oddly specific, fortune. Sorry, future. Things ranged from “They will have your favorite food at lunch today” to “that pen you lost is where you dropped that notebook you lost” or “Stay away from owls tomorrow”. All of it was completely useless. When she got to Hermione her eyes narrowed.
“You must be one of Professor Bidds's students, you would rather be anywhere else right now, perhaps the library?”
Hermione’s lips tightened. She didn’t like to back-talk professors but this one didn’t seem to fit that category. “Is that my fortune Professor Dare? That I’m bored?”
Professor Dare lifted an eyebrow and smirked, “Oh no sweetheart” her voice oozed with sarcasm, “I’m just getting started”. Her eyes seemed to unfocus and she focused on the green paint that had oh so kindly been flung at Hermione’s face. “It might do you some good to listen to your friends, Hermione Granger, the rules aren’t everything. Especially when a prophecy is afoot. Oh, and your book is with a gift from your mother” and with that she turned away.
Yeah, Hermione was getting out of this class no matter what.
She tried to put the class behind her as she returned to the dorms. She tried to forget about it when Ron and Harry left for dinner. Tried to forget about it when one of the other students from that class loudly exclaimed that the pot pie being served for dinner was her favorite food. Tried to forget about it when she found her missing notebook tangled up with the blanket her mom bought her last year and tried to forget about it as she fell asleep that night.
It didn’t work.
By the next afternoon Hermione’s doubt had transformed to full indignation. How did she do it. Every “fortune” her new Professor gave out had come true. The previous night she had twitched when one of her classmates had loudly exclaimed that Shepards Pie was her favorite meal during dinner. Back in the dorms a gryffindor girl in the class had run into her room celebrating the fact that both her favorite pen and her diary had been found under a couch in the common room. Hermione’s roommates had started giving her a wide berth when a vase exploded after said girl departed. The next morning during mail delivery another classmate was the unfortunate victim of the Weasley’s new disaster of an owl. Madam Pomphrey had reassured her friend and his brothers that the student should wake up in a few hours but Ginny was already writing a letter home. The poor victim boy had also been in her class, Professor Dare had told him to stay away from birds.
It just wasn’t possible. Yes magic was incredible but witches and wizards tended to make the mistaken assumption that it did the impossible. That was just wrong. While different from physical sciences like chemistry it was still science, it just existed in an invisible plain and dealt with factors that they couldn’t quite point out yet. They were getting there though, Hermione had read about it in a library book just last night while trying to avoid thinking about Divination class in two days. What Professor Dare was doing was just not possible, and yet, she was doing it somehow.
Hermione was going to get to the bottom of this.
“Ms. Granger” Professor Dare greeted as Hermione stormed into the empty classroom, “What brings you to class so early?” an hour early to be exact.
“How are you doing this” Hermione demanded, “Are you using the house elves? Cause just so you know none of them are getting paid and that’s just slavery at that point”
Professor Dare smirked, “Doing what, exactly?”
Hermione growled and furiously gestured to the room as if that would explain her frustration, “This, how are you convincing so many people that you can see the future?”
“I thought I made this clear during our first class, because I can”
“I don’t think it’s right that you are wasting both the staff and students time with this made up class. We should be doing something that will actually help us in the future, not letting a phony flick paint onto our faces! You are just like Professor Lockhart, fame isn’t everything you know so maybe you should go try your little tricks somewhere else”
Professor Dare set down the paintbrush she was using and stepped to the side, revealing a small canvas with a very familiar scene on it. “Phony you say?” she smirked at Hermione as the younger girl gaped at the image. It was clearly of her, hair billowing behind her as she was caught in the middle of slamming the Divination classroom door open. Just through the door, a little figure in purple robes could be seen working on a canvas.
“THAT'S NOT POSSIBLE” Hermione screeched, she was reaching the limits of her ability to stay calm. It was infuriating that she had to take the class of this scam artist for one, but it was even worse that she could not figure out how Professor Dare was doing any of this. Was it a spell? Was she just that good at reading body language?
“Oh I assure you Ms. Granger, it is very possible. Why are you so skeptical even after seeing it at work? The evidence is right in front of you after all.”
“You can’t figure out the future by looking at flecks of paint that someone else splattered on my face.” she argued, face turning red. “I insist that you tell me, how did you do it or I will be sending a letter to the ministry! Are there tells? Body language? A spell?”
Professor Dare just chuckled, “You know, you're very unbelieving of the extraordinary for a Wizard. Aren’t y’all supposed to be able to do the impossible? How is me looking into the future any different than using a Pensive to look into the past?”
Y’all? Professor Dare was a witch too.
“Because the future hasn’t happened yet?”
“Oh really, and who told you that”. Professor Dare was smirking, clearly enjoying Hermione’s frustration. Hermione opened her mouth but Professor Dare raised her hand, cutting her off, “Look, I didn’t look at the shape of the paint if that is what you are wondering, I looked at how the light reflected off it, and how it escaped into it. A lot is hidden in the light and in colors although some would say there is no difference between the two”
“AHA!” Hermione pointed at her, “Right there, you can’t look into light, human eyes are only capable of seeing so much. That’s why wizards believe magic is able to do the impossible. Nothing is able to do the impossible. There is just something about our bodies that lets us manipulate things that our eyes cannot see!”
Professor Dare clutched her heart in mock shock, “Oh no! A preteen doubts my abilities, I must pray to the gods for forgiveness, how dare I go against the laws of this teenager's beliefs”.
Hermione narrowed her eyes, was this woman really a professor? She acted more like a sarcastic teen sometimes.
“Listen girlie, you are obviously smart when it comes to knowledge and things that are clear, stick to that. I’ll give you an O just for showing up, just between you and me, I hate grading things just as much as you hate doing them.”
That got Hermione to narrow her eyes. An O just for showing up… Usually she would be against handouts like that but there really was nothing to learn in this class and she liked the idea of a free period. As she was thinking her Professor’s smile was slowly growing, she knew she had won. Hermione caught her gaze and huffed, “don’t expect me to participate in any more ‘foresight’ activities, no paint, tea leaves, or broken cups”.
She held out her hand and her Professor grabbed it, you have yourself a deal Ms. Granger. And if I could just say one more thing, your friend Harry has recently gotten his hands on a very interesting map but I think it would be more useful in your hands.” and with that she picked up her paintbrush and started on a new canvas.
That night as Hermione held the Marauders map in her hand and looked down at the names Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew she could only think of one thing.
That bitch
