Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 604 What exactly is divination?

On the second Tuesday of September, it drizzled at Hogwarts.

It was a hazy gray outside the window. Below, several young wizards were running back from the yard with their textbooks in their arms, splashing water everywhere with the soles of their boots.

Regulus walked up the stairs to the north tower of the castle, with Avery beside him and the other four following behind.

Turning the corner of a corridor with an open window, raindrops drifted in with the wind, leaving water stains on the stone floor.

When Regulus started taking elective courses in his third year, he chose divination because he wanted to explore a kind of magic that he couldn't yet explain directly using existing methods.

He made his choice, and the other five followed suit.

The higher you go, the narrower the stone steps become, and in the corner against the wall, there are piles of withered leaves blown in from outside the window.

Avery walked to the corner, looked up, then down, muttering, "Still have to climb up."

The last flight of stairs leads to a small platform. The trapdoor overhead is open, and a silver ladder hangs down, through which voices can be heard.

Regulus climbed the ladder and went through the doorway. The room was warm, and the scent of tea wafted from the direction of the lectern.

The round classroom had about ten small tables with cups and saucers on them, and soft chairs squeezed around the tables.

The tall cabinet on the wall had glass doors, and inside were stacks of crystal balls, while the adjacent cabinets were filled with spare tea sets.

Regulus chose three adjacent tables. Avery sat next to him, Alex and Hermes sat opposite him, and Lena and Samuel sat to the side.

Behind the lectern stood a witch, looking down at the roster, one hand resting on the edge of the table, her dark blue-grey robe trailing down to her shoes, a silver brooch pinned to her collar.

Her dark hair was pulled back, with some silver strands at her temples, and the fine lines at the corners of her eyes were quite deep, but her eyes were very bright.

He had seen this face in an old magazine.

When choosing courses during the holidays, Regulus found a supplement to the Daily Prophet from the 1960s in Grimmauld Place, which was dedicated to news about fortune tellers and prophets, and she was featured in that issue.

Ophelia Wickham is 67 years old this year, but she doesn't look old at all.

In his youth, he warned a restoration apprentice at a magic item shop that he would be burned by a cabinet that had never been lit before.

A dozen days later, the apprentice was sorting through the old items in the cabinet when he came across a broken amulet. The remaining burning spell inside burned his palm.

The newspaper had published the original warning, dated before the accident, and the shop owner had seen the paper.

There were several similar incidents later, where people were reminded to avoid accidents and to be informed in advance of upcoming changes to their homes, though none of them were large-scale.

Several shops and some wizarding families began to remember her, and some people specifically asked her to help them look at the old goods they had just acquired and to ask about their families.

Wickham closed the roster, stepped out from behind the lectern, stopped by the trapdoor, waited for the last two students to climb up, bent down, grasped the door knocker, and pulled it back to the floor.

She returned to the lectern, raised her hand, and the curtains closed along the curved wall, while several spherical lamps lit up overhead.

The light inside was like that of a tent lit up at dusk, and the sound of raindrops hitting the window could be heard intermittently.

Avery looked up at the lamp, then at the professor, raising half an eyebrow with a hint of novelty on his face.

He had heard of many fortune tellers, but he had never actually met one who could accurately predict the future.

Wickham placed his hands on the edge of the table, glanced at the young wizard in front of him, and slowly said, "Welcome to the Divination class."

Tea leaves, stars, crystals, fragments of dreams—these can all give you glimpses into the future. This talent for recognizing omens is what we call the "Heavenly Eye."

Regulus's gaze shifted from the curtains and the lamp to her face.

They even have to make special arrangements for the start of a class; they're quite particular about it.

"This year you will learn several basic divination methods. If you don't learn them, don't panic. This course doesn't rely on textbooks."

Wickham stepped down from the lectern, slowly crossed the table, and stopped in front of a Hufflepuff girl with long braids near the door.

The professor looked down at her and said gently, "The next letter will bring good news. Your father will find a new job, and you can continue to live in the same house."

The girl was looking up at the professor, her eyes wide, her voice full of surprise: "How did you know we were moving? I didn't tell anyone."

She turned to look at her deskmate, who was also looking at her with surprise.

The girl turned back, her surprise turning to joy: "Can we really continue staying here?"

Wickham nodded: "Wait for the mail."

She walked along the table, and several young wizards turned their heads to follow her.

A Ravenclaw boy was watching the commotion when the professor stopped beside him.

"Your brother's wedding date will be changed, but the wedding will still take place. Don't write back to ask about it yet, or you'll just cause them to argue again."

The boy was stunned for a moment, then became a little anxious: "They've already argued about what flowers to put."

After saying that, he was stunned: "You even know that?"

Wickham chuckled: "Don't make it even more accurate for me later."

Regulus glanced at the two young wizards, his gray eyes returning to the professor.

It seems that she was right.

Wickham walked to the window, passed a mixed-race girl, and looked at her for a moment.

The girl looked up expectantly, but the professor picked up the teapot from beside her and walked back along another row of tables.

Avery had already laid out his textbooks and was looking up at her.

Wickham paused at their table, glanced at the cups and the people sitting there, and then continued walking.

Avery blinked.

She walked over to another table, where a mixed-race boy sat up straight. She glanced at him and then walked past him.

Further ahead, two pure-blooded Ravenclaw girls were also waiting, but she didn't even glance at them.

Regulus glanced at Avery, then looked out the window.

Even mixed-race individuals have to be chosen.

She just mentioned two people, one Muggle-born and the other a mixed-race individual. She didn't even look at the few pure-blooded wizards in the classroom.

Is it because you're afraid of trouble, or because you can't see clearly?

Perhaps that's all she can see: a young, ordinary wizard whose family is moving and whose brother is getting married—things are simple and straightforward.

If it were a pure-blood family, with magic left by their ancestors, contracts passed down through generations, and elders who could change things at any time, the things she saw would probably become chaotic.

Regulus glanced at Lina and Samuel.

These two are now working for him, and it will probably be quite a struggle for Wickham to trace them all the way to him.

Sure enough, the professor glanced at Lena, then at Samuel, and then moved on.

Wickham walked back to the lectern, picked up a teacup, and demonstrated: "Let's try tea divination first. We'll stop when there's only one sip left, leaving the tea leaves in the cup."

The copper kettle floated across the table, its lid gently tapping as tea was poured into cups.

Regulus took a sip; the tea was a bit bitter, and there were small pieces of tea leaves mixed in at the bottom of the cup.

Hermes, sitting opposite, had finished his drink, placed his cup on the table, and stretched one leg under the table, waiting for the professor to continue.

"Hold the cup with the handle facing you and see what you recognize first. Then go and look it up in the book, paying attention to the outline. Don't rush to name it."

Lena held her cup and tilted it towards Alex, her voice cheerful: "It looks a bit like a bird."

Alex leaned closer to look, turned his head to look again, and shrugged at her.

Lina followed the gaze, put the cup back on the table, and frowned as she looked for the bird's head again.

Avery flipped through a few pages of the book and had already begun planning Alex's future.

He took Alex's cup and pointed to the upward-reaching tree branch: "You'll be a director someday."

Alex looked somewhat helpless; this guy was talking complete nonsense.

Avery then turned to Hermes, staring at the clump of tea leaves at the bottom of the cup, and said in a serious tone, "You have an enemy who's coming to cause you trouble."

Hermes looked over with a grim expression, raising his eyelids slightly: "Who?"

Avery was stumped by the question; he hadn't gotten to that point yet. He lowered his head and continued searching, making mumbled "uh-huh" sounds.

Hermes waited for a while, then scoffed impatiently.

Regulus ignored them, his senses scanning the cup and tea leaves, but he couldn't find any magical changes related to divination.

He changed his grip, turning the handle back to face him, and probed deeper with his senses, but still found nothing.

Avery had already foreseen his fortune, and as he looked at his cup, he became more and more satisfied. He then turned around and began to make up stories about good and bad omens.

Regulus opened the book.

Similar leaves can lead to different results, and there's so much room for interpretation. If you follow Avery's method, you can arrange a lifetime of good things for yourself after reading just one cup of tea.

He flipped through the illustrations of the signs, his gaze lingering on the several prophecies quoted beside them.

Each sentence is easy to understand, but when put together, it's hard to determine who they're referring to or what they're talking about.

Compared to diviners, prophets likely receive more direct information.

A future event may unfold before your eyes; you can see and hear the people, the places, and even the things you say to each other.

The diviner, however, may not even be able to explain what he says, leaving a few words for the listener to ponder.

The latter is more mysterious, and when it comes to specific events, it's easy to get it wrong.

However, even if you can see it clearly, you may not know what happened.

When you see someone raise a wand, who is standing opposite them, what they said before they started, and why they insisted on casting a spell, these details may be missing.

It's normal to misunderstand something based on just one image.

Metaphors are not necessarily all ambiguous; they may clearly explain the relationship between things, but omit other details.

Regulus looked at the river pattern on the page and a sentence came to mind.

The person who rescues you will hand you over to the enemy on the shore.

Wherever the river is, whatever color the clothes are, they can change, yet rescue and danger fall upon the same person.

If the person who was trying to save them changes their mind, or if the person who fell into the water swims up on their own, then the rescue might be interrupted.

He looked up at the professor.

The fragility of prophecy may lie here: if the key people and events deviate slightly, the original outcome will no longer hold.

But some changes are insignificant; people may take detours, but they will still encounter the same thing in the end.

Prophecies may be changed, but we must first know which step is truly crucial.

Wickham walked to another table and picked up a student's cup.

Regulus tilted his head; the girl near the door was laughing happily.

The father changed jobs elsewhere, and his income increased accordingly. Where his daughter lived also changed.

While still sitting in her Hogwarts classroom, her family's decision was already impacting her future life.

A letter can bring the changes over, and she will be happy to receive it and make new arrangements. The things she originally planned to do may no longer need to be done.

People may be far apart, but their affairs are connected. A promise, a debt, or a message can all influence people who are far apart.

He thought of topology.

Putting distance and appearance aside for now, let's first look at how they connect. Using this line of thinking to ponder prophecy seems to make sense.

When Wickham sees a result, he may encounter the connections that led to that result.

The father makes a decision, which affects the daughter; the daughter then does things that affect others.

As you continue searching outwards, you'll encounter more and more choices.

If you really want to count them one by one, how much does she need to know?

Further down the line is the butterfly effect, which can cause even bigger problems.

In some chaotic systems, even if the starting points are very different, the differences can become very large later on.

No matter how much you know right now, if you miss even one condition, your calculations might all be wrong later on.

However, being unable to calculate accurately does not prove that everything is random, nor does it prove that seeing the future allows one to control it.

Even if someone sees a bridge about to collapse, they might not be able to save the people on the bridge.

Avery's voice drifted over from the side. He found an explanation in the book, pointed it out to Alex, and said with a smug look in his eyes, "Promotion. It's written here."

Regulus glanced at it, then looked away.

Prophecy may not need to be calculated one by one; magic can directly access the connection that determines the outcome and bypass many trivial processes.

Or perhaps the diviner is only reading the most likely outcome at present.

If everyone involved does what they originally planned, things will go smoothly. But if someone changes their mind halfway through, the outcome she envisioned will fall through.

But once a prediction is spoken, the person involved knows what they might encounter and will make a decision based on what they hear.

If someone hears that they might fall into the water from a bridge, they might simply avoid that bridge the next day, thus avoiding the danger.

Another person didn't believe it and insisted on seeing it for himself, only to find that the bridge had collapsed.

The same sentence can lead to completely different results depending on how you understand it and what you do after hearing it.

When a fortune teller sees the future, has he already foreseen the impact of this statement?

If the person's reaction was already included, then his efforts to avoid the prophecy may also be in the prophecy.

It was a bit convoluted, and Regulus couldn't figure it out for a while either.

The sound of cups and saucers clinking came from the other side of the lectern. Wickham put down the teacup he was using for demonstration, turned around, and opened the tall cabinet against the wall.

"Put the teacup aside for now, clear the table, and let's try the crystal ball."

Crystal balls, attached to their bases, floated out of the cabinet and landed one by one in front of the students.

Avery temporarily put aside his fortune and career prospects, as well as Hermes's fierceness, and went closer to the ball to take a look.

Wickham held the ball in his hands and looked up at the young wizards: "Look at it, try to relax, and rest your eyes when they get tired."

Regulus's perception extended into the sphere.

The crystal has a natural texture and a few tiny cracks inside. It has no magical structure and no sealed spell can be found.

A crystal ball is a ball made of crystal.